


Of LARPers and Inquisitors

by InTheAier



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Colemance, F/M, Gratuitous Swearing, LARPing, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern OC in Thedas, Movie Reference, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Third Person, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Swearing, ladies problems, modern girl mage, modern world references, possible canon divergence, red lyrium headcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4846922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheAier/pseuds/InTheAier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She loved fantasy and all that went with it which was why she was a LARPer, or a Live Action Role-Player, but when she actually stepped through a portal into a magical land named Thedas things got complicated. </p><p>In progress, updates when possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Well, shit.

  


She could feel the ache deep in her bones as she limped away from the heat of the battle that raged too close behind her. An arrow had sunk deep into her thigh and in the pained haze all she could think to do was move to the back lines to find a healer. Hobbling as fast as her leg would allow, leaning heavily on her stave, she yelled for attention before thick set arms found her and set her down gently onto the ground. The older man quickly inspected her wound and pulled out his mana infused wand before he got to work lacing his spells around her leg. The warm tingle of magic washed over her as he removed the offending shaft and knit the torn muscle and flesh back together. Once certain that she was fine he gave her a draw on his water-skin before he sent her back towards the battle field.

With her new found strength she gripped her staff with new found confidence before returning to her place in the battle. Before she could reach the front lines a loud shout rang across the field.

"Man down!" With a sigh she quickly took a knee on the ground, as did everyone on the battle field, while some first aiders rushed over to where the ref had shouted. She craned her neck to see who had gotten hurt before she noted a familiar face, blood streamed down his nose and his eye looked quite bruised but it appeared he wasn't as badly hurt as he appeared as the first aiders gave him a quick check over before deciding it was okay for them to continue. Once they were clear the ref gave the signal and everyone rose and continued where they had left off. As she cast a shatter spell she noticed the ref walking off the field talking into his radio and looking a little more excited than he should for a routine skirmish. Dread filled her before she understood why he looked so pleased.

Thick fog rolled over the long grass field, she was impressed with the effects budget, and a large figure emerged from the shadows. A large green dragon loped towards them and she could feel the atmosphere change. They were supposed to be terrified but every player was thrilled that they would be fighting a dragon, no one knew it was happening and it looked amazing. She guessed there had to be at least three people operating the thing as it swung around spitting poison fog from its papier-mâché jaws.

The captain rallied their group around him as he yelled his orders and pointed out known weakness for the creature, he lifted his sword and with zeal roared "For Kavala!"

* * *

After the battle was done their group returned to their camp victoriously showing off the head of the dragon that they had slain. Though it wasn't the actual head, the crew had worked really hard on the monster costume and wanted to use it again later, they had provided a large foam dragon skull that the players could show off and show off they did.

Around the large campfire that was situated in the middle of their nations camp the bards told grand tales of how the brave warriors had slain the terrible dragon. She sat with a tankard of honey mead in her hand as she listened to the tales and was impressed that the bard had managed to come up with a half decent song off the cuff, though she recognised the basic tune and words from a song she heard on the radio a few days before the event.

"Arainia! I trust you fared well on the skirmish, I heard tell of a dragon!" At the sound of her character's name she turned and smiled brightly at the war painted face of her friend and IC brother.

"Aye, brother. T'was a battle for the ages, 'tis a tragedy you missed it." She laughed at his soured expression, he had been called away for a meeting with the clergy and as a high priest he had no choice but to attend. Quickly offering him some of her mead his expression brightened allowing her to regale him with what he had missed. It was a shame really as he had been a warrior at the last event but had died heroically and decided this time he would try his luck as a priest. The only reason he had agreed to come LARPing with her in the first place was that she had promised he could fight a dragon if he went.

"Sister, your coven were planning to go on a twilight mission tonight and asked me to tell you." He told her after they had caught up "They said they had finally located some artefact that you had shown interest in obtaining."

"Thank you Tyrion," He wasn't very original with names "I will go then. Don't drink all my booze." She smirked as she broke character slightly before making her way towards her coven's tent. In the character pack she had gotten when she signed in at the beginning of the previous event she had gotten an extra slip of paper with some personal plot for Arainia that was intriguing. It read that her elf-blood had been calling her to search for an ancient artefact that would be of great significance to their kingdom. Personally she felt like it was a bit of a Mary-Sue quest but since she had very little personal plot up until that point she thought it would at least be fun to roleplay.

* * *

Dusk had settled by the time the coven was organised enough to go out into the 'portal' that would transport them to the area of the artefact. The 'portal' was in fact a large wooden arch that players would walk through and then have to trudge off to various areas of the site before they 'arrived' at their destinations. The six of them followed the black and yellow tabard of the ref, commonly known as a bumble bee, to the forested area of the camp site and then eventually to a cave with runes glued onto the entrance. The head of the coven strode towards the entrance confidently before the bumble bee told her that when she tried to enter the cave there was a barrier preventing entry. As a seasoned player, she was one of the best to role play with, she quickly tested out different ways to dispel the shield but the ref simply rebuffed each attempt.

"Arainia suddenly feels a strong pull of magic from the cave. The sensation builds when she gets closer to it." He told them after he had stopped to listen from his ear piece.

"Myra, the artefact is within I can feel it." She told the coven despite the fact that they already knew this. The coven leader, Myra, quickly deduced that since Arainia was the only elf in the coven the barrier had to be race filtered.

With the encouragement of the others she stepped up to the cave entrance and made to step through it, aware that the ref could stop her at any moment.

"You feel the familiar wave of magic but your way is not barred." He told them as she then stood fully within the mouth of the cave, he gave her a piece of paper with instructions on what she would find and what she was looking for before he leaned in to give her some final info. "The cave is shallow and there are lit candles in there. The ritual will take a few minutes then return looking drained of magic but safe." She smiled at him before she turned to walk deeper into the cave.

As promised it was a short walk and well-lit inside, there were tables covered with faux furs and arcane looking objects like crystals, potions, small wooden chests and in the very centre of the cavern was a tall dulled mirror. Referring back to the paper she had been given she began the ritual. It was nothing more than some muttered gibberish, sprinkling of the coloured water potions and a flourish of her staff. When her roleplay was finished she opened the small wooden box and pulled out a tacky looking plastic amulet. Satisfied she turned to leave the cave but a shimmer of light suddenly coming to life caught her attention causing her to spin around. The simple looking mirror was glowing and almost seemed to ripple, confused she checked the prompt sheet and nodded when she confirmed there was nothing about the mirror glowing in its contents.

Curious she stepped closer and noticed that her reflection was not shown but instead a large ancient looking ruin stared back at her. Clearly the crew were better funded than she had initially thought.

Almost without any comprehension she reached out and allowed her fingers to gently brushed against the fluid looking surface. Before she knew what had happened she felt a hard yank and she was pulled roughly through the glowing mirror. Disorientated she stumbled out the other side before she heard glass shatter behind her but her attention was nowhere near focused on the broken mirror. Instead her gaze was unequivocally devoted to the large and terrifying green tear in the sky above her.

"What the actual fuck?"


	2. Great balls of veilfire!

The sky had a hole in it… a big fuck off gaping hole.

Panic swept through her as she stared uselessly up at the sky above her before she managed to tear her eyes away from the impossible sight. Her body shook uncontrollably and she gripped her arms tightly in attempts to calm her fear. Tears flooded her eyes as she tried to make sense of anything, where was she and how had she gotten there and why the hell did the sky have a hole in it? Her shaking hands raked through her hair until they met with her rubber elf ears, the glue starting to flake away and in sheer frustration tore them off. She stared at the flimsy pointed ear tips in her hand and felt a hot flicker of anger surge up inside her before she span and threw them at the shattered mirror behind her.

The damned mirror! The sodding elf-blood calling! The fucking personal plot quest! The twatty LARP organisers!

The rage inside her burned and she had no idea why she was so angry or what was happening or where she was. She was just so confused.

' _Let me help you.'_ A voice said from nowhere causing her to spin around erratically. _'The anger burns inside you, glorious rage and hatred. Let me in and everything will make sense.'_

"What? Who? Will you just… arg! Stop fucking with me!" She sputtered as she surveyed her surroundings trying to see who it was that was taunting her.

She appeared to be standing in the middle of some ancient ruin, crumbling bare bones of some large stone structure, a temple maybe? Worn statues stood sentry around the large airy hall and tattered time ravaged tapestries clung on their last strings to the collapsing walls. It looked like the ceiling had long since rotted away allowing the gut-wrenching view of the sky-tear in the distance. Through the gaps in the columns and broken walls she could see vast forests and a large snow topped mountain range in the distance. The only thing in the ruin that seemed to be in anyway good shape was the mirror and that too was broken, shattered glass shimmered on the floor in a large arch. It was strange, the glass looked like it had shattered quite evenly, and there was no focal point for the break. It was like it had just all burst forth of its own will. Which was ridicules and she had been watching way too much crime drama in her spare time.

Another disturbing thought crossed her mind, there was literally no place for someone to hide for her to hear them speak so clearly, so who had spoken to her?

' _Such a perceptive little creature'_ It crooned condescendingly _'A lamb stumbles into a world of wolves and clings to the hope her flock is hiding just out of sight.'_ A shock of ice jolted down her spine, she could not see who was speaking because the voice was inside her head!

"Shit! I'm crazy!" Her voice sounded harsh even to her, how had this happened? She had been LARPing for years, it had always been safe, the organisers were meticulous when weaving their plots and quests. Had her love of fantasy broken her grip on reality? She had always known it was a game! It was a safe release of stress! It was supposed to be safe!

' _Yes! Feel the betrayal, the rage. Let it flow through you.'_ The voice enveloped her in molten heat and anger. _'Let me in and we will see them all burn! The liars and the tricksters! Make them pay for what they have done!'_ The distorted voice encouraged as she felt spectral hands clawing at her to be freed.

"No!" Her hands cupped her ears in a fruitless attempt to drown out the poisonous whispers. "Stay out of my head!" Her once resolute voice crumpled to a whimper. She was tired, confused, scared and alone but not as alone as she would rather be at that moment.

Her skin was too hot, too tight, it felt like it was constricting her bones and a strange sharp numbness was buzzing around every nerve ending. She sank to her knees, salty tears stinging in her eyes but she was too distracted to notice that they evaporated before they had time to roll down her flushed cheeks.

The voice surrounded her, enveloping her in its fractured whispers and the constant clawing just beneath her skin.

"No no no no no no no!" She repeated over and over again until she felt the strange sensation build to its pique. Then everything was on fire. It flowed around her, blue shadowed flames snaking up the walls and lapping at what was left of the moth eaten tapestries. The blaze licked at her skin, swept over her until she was encircled in a towering inferno.

The dark voice chuckled deeply _'Impressive, little lamb, but pointless. You will falter and when you do your form will be mine.'_ Then just like that he was gone, not just his voice but his choking clawing presence. After several moments the cobalt flames died out leaving not a wisp of ash as evidence of it ever being there.

As soon as the strength returned to her legs she pulled herself up, as unsteady as she was, and hastily made her way out of the accursed ruin.

* * *

She walked for hours too afraid of what had just happened to stop but it had given her time to think. At first she had rationalised everything that had happened was terribly elaborate role play that the ref had decided to leave out of his little brief but she soon ruled that out. There was no way they had the budget for half the stuff she heard and saw, in fact she was pretty sure the technology was impossible or at least not that advanced yet. Flames that didn't burn but she could feel, it was almost like an echo of heat, it made no sense and the weird scary voice she heard?! There was nothing in the game lore about anything that communicated like that, like it was in her head, and how would they have done that anyway?

Then, of course, there was the fact that the event had been held in a large field. Yes, it had a small wooded border and some shallow caves nearby but there were no forests anywhere near where she was supposed to be, let alone big fuck off mountains. Combined with the fact she had been walking for so long and had yet to come across any of the sites tents, roads or amenities or even one of the villages that she knew to surround the area. There had yet to be a plane in the sky, which was odd because there was an airfield a few miles over, and the sky itself, it was fucking ridicules! It seemed no matter what direction she walked the mammoth green tear loomed over her.

Eventually exhaustion forced her stop. She was still in the middle of some forest so a clearing had had to do. A small campfire was quickly erected giving her a little light and warmth, it was at this point when the cold was chased from her bones that she was glad she had learnt how to build a proper fire for LARP. She was always about authentic emersion in the roleplay. When she had settled on the damp grass she decided to take stock of what she had on her in her belt pouches, a LARPer's best friend. In the large pouch she had her phone, OC money and her asthma inhaler, then there was her IC money pouch, her tankard strap with tankard and finally her ladies problems pouch. She had been expecting to come on while she was at the event but it had yet to happen yet, for which she was incredibly thankful as so far she had had to use a bush to do her business and she really didn't feel like cleaning herself up with leaves. The sooner she found civilisation the better.

She was irritated that she hadn't thought to bring her water skin or any food but they were only supposed to be gone a few hours at most and everything that she had on her belt was what she had on when she went to see her coven.

In the time it had taken to set up the fire and sort through what she had the dark had truly set in along with the cold. She pulled up her large hood, occasionally poked at the fire and sat quietly unable to sleep. Her costume was one that she had spent the better part of two months designing and making, she had wanted it functional but also a little sexy as a confidence boost to herself. So she based the design a little on Arwen from 'The Lord of the Rings' and mixed in a little of Kahlan Amnell's outfit from 'Legend of the Seeker'. She had been so proud of the outfit that she had sunk so much time and effort into but in that moment, shivering by the meagre fire, she cursed that she hadn't made it thicker and less revealing.

It was in the moment she had been considering foraging in the dark for more fire wood that she heard the distinct sound of people approaching. The urge to bolt up and run to anyone that could help her make sense of the mess she was in surged through her strongly but she immediately stamped down on that thought, not all people were good people and people wandering around in a forest at night… the whole situation dredged up scenes from cliché horror movies about people lost in the woods.

She kept still and silent, the fire died down slightly from her lack of attention. The voices sounded closer, she could heard them talking about seeing a fire, they sounded afraid. Whispered words like 'mage hunters' and 'rabid templars' were uttered but they made little sense to her. Were they talking about the Knights Templar, from the crusades, maybe they were strange wandering historians… in the woods… babbling about hunters? When she heard the crunching of their steps on leaves she lost her nerve and bolted to hide behind a nearby tree, as if she could see if they were good people when they came into view. Eventually a group of three people cautiously walked into the clearing, they looked like they were LARPers too going by their long elaborate robes and staves.

"I don't see anyone."

"Was this a trap!"

"Hush, I'll do a life detect spell."

She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard them speak, they must have been on a night quest and gotten lost in the woods too. They clearly weren't from her IC nation but the covens spread across the kingdoms and with the enchanter's code still going strong she felt a little more confident about stepping out to talk to them, her previous thoughts about how she was clearly nowhere near the LARP site disappearing from her mind.

That was until a sudden pulse of purple light emanated from one of the stranger's staff and she lit up like a Christmas tree. The thoughts of how utterly impossible it was, that this could have anything to do with LARP, surged back into her mind with a vengeance.

"You there, behind that tree! Come out slowly!"

More than a little panicked her hands shot up into the air before she slowly came out from her hiding place and she saw that each one of the strangers were in aggressive stances. Their hands each were glowing, the first's were white and looked like they had frozen over, the second's shone purple with little flickers of electricity and the last's had small balls of flame balanced on their palms.

"Woa, wait!" She quivered at the blatant use of magic in front of her, for she could deny it no longer, everything could be explained by magic as strange and insane as it sounded. She had always loved fantasy but she had always known that was always what it was, a fantasy, not real but suddenly she was forced into seeing unequivocal proof. These people had magic and the flames that had engulfed her at the ruin had had to have been magic too.

"Looks, she's a mage, just like us!" One of them exclaimed lowering his hands and the frost around his fingers dissipated.

"Just because she is wearing a robe doesn't mean she's a mage. She doesn't even have a staff." Another pointed out, the flames in her hands brightened threateningly.

"Yes, because it would be safe for a lone mage to be wandering with a big 'I'm an apostate' stick." The friendlier one argued.

The group continued to argue amongst themselves and each moment that passed made her more uncomfortable. She could feel her skin begin to twitch as she became more anxious, the strange sharp numbness that she had felt in the ruin before everything had been aflame. Her hands shook as she gripped them into tight fists, trying to hide her fear, she didn't want to have another outburst. Then the argument between the strangers became more heated and she had had to duck a stray lightning bolt. The terror of these people's power pushed her over the edge and she felt the same strange spectral heat dancing around her fists.

"Look, she… she made veil fire. Cool." The now smiling mage walked up to her to look more closely at her magic. "I've only read about it in books, they never taught it at our circle."

With her unintentional show of magic the situation seemed to settle quickly and the mages were a lot more relaxed around her. They introduced themselves as Finn, the happy little ice mage, Torrin, he was older than the other two, and Ella, who seemed weary but had stopped pointing fire at her. The explained they were fleeing from the fallout of the conclave and had heard that there was a safe haven for mages and that was where they were going, somewhere called Redcliffe. The info dump had confused her a little bit but the fact that they were heading towards civilisation seemed like a good idea. Though they were a little reluctant at first they agreed to allow her to go with them, there was safety in numbers.

"So," Finn asked after they had agreed to set out at first light "what did you say your name was again?"

"Cynthia."


	3. A Magister comes to town

It had taken them over a week to travel to Redcliffe where the majority of the rebel mages had gathered. The journey had not been an easy one either, they had been accosted by bandits and crazed templars and Cynthia was having trouble processing everything. It turned out that she was not, in fact, in England but instead a place called Ferelden… on the continent Thedas… or the world was called Thedas? She didn't really want to ask too many questions because the others were giving her strange looks. She had decided not to start ranting to them about how she appeared to be in a different reality or dimension or universe to the one she was from. They were skittish enough as it was and she needed them to take her to civilisation and hopefully someone who could get her back home.

That, however, did not mean that she wasn't enjoying some of the aspects of the strange world she found herself in. Magic was incredibly fun to play with though on the second night with her new companions Torrin had taken her aside to ask her some questions that she didn't quite understand and he hadn't really given her time to answer so he appeared to form his own conclusions as to why she had no actual magic training.

He asked her if she had been raised in a circle or with her family and she answered with the latter. He then went on to forming his hypothesis that her parents had properly hidden her from the templars and raised her away from society to avoid persecution. She did try to interrupt but at that point her 'backstory' was already taking shape in his mind. He described her sheltered up bringing as the reason why she asked all the strange questions about commonly known things, and guessed from her confused state when they found her that something had happened to her family. Maybe the templars, maybe it was to do with the conclave, whatever it was he decided upon it made him look upon her sympathetically and promise to teach her proper control of her power.

This little interaction had completely thrown her for a loop but it had resulted in him teaching her basic magic so she decided not to complain and seeing as it appeared to be a more convincing history than 'I'm from another world' she went along with it when he explained her to the others.

When they reached the border to the Hinterlands Cynthia was given a proper staff, Finn said that he had found a mage's cache when he was foraging for their breakfast and that it was better that she had a weapon. She looked over the slender weapon appreciatively, her LARP-safe staff had been made of foam, had a hard core running through it and was decorated with painted crystals and jewels, the real staff was a good weight in her hands, it was not ornate or imposing but she felt a hum of power from it that pulsed through her as she held it.

The staff made training with the mages significantly easier, it seemed to help focus and channel magic more effectively than just flinging it from her hands. It also made defending herself a lot easier as she found out when they crossed through the Hinterlands to reach Redcliffe. Bandits ran rampant, templars attacked anything that moved and even other mages that they came across lashed out. Then, of course, there were the rifts. Apparently the locals called the tear in the sky The Breach and the rifts were caused by the big one. It was at one of these rifts that she saw her first demon. It was made of molten fire and slithered around radiating hatred and rage, despite the heat she could feel even at a distance the sight sent a bolt of ice through her veins.

The fact that the creature felt familiar.

They decided to take a detour to avoid going near the rift and it was a course of action that she whole heartedly agreed with, she did not want to be anywhere near that thing and thought it best not to mention the familiarity she sensed in the creature.

They hit another snag when they finally did get to Redcliffe, there was a gate and a guard and neither seemed likely to let them through into the village. The woman said that the war between the mages and the templars was getting too out of hand and that no one was allowed into Redcliffe until things had settled down. Eventually though Torrin managed to convince her to let them through, he told her that Grand Enchanter Fiona had told him to go to Redcliffe and that he had been helping the younger mages get there safely. She seemed sceptical but after a lot of coercing she let them through muttering to herself something along the lines of ' _That's it no one else, I don't care if Andraste herself wants in._ '

The villagers were incredibly wary of them, so much so that no one would talk to them, forcing them to take no time in pushing forward to the tavern for some rest.

The Gull and Lantern was absolutely packed with mages when they walked in, and it appeared that they had walked right into the middle of something. The mages were all crowding around one large table, there were several people sat at it one of whom Cynthia assumed to be Fiona by the way she was trying to keep order. Everyone was arguing and scared that their rebellion had killed the Divine, that the templars would come for them and some even worried that the maker was punishing them with The Breach. Cynthia and her little band of mages squeezed in quietly and sat in a corner not sure how they wanted to move forward now that they had achieved their goal of getting to Redcliffe.

After observing the mages squabble amongst themselves for hours on end Cynthia began to wonder if there was anyone who would have the knowledge to get her back home or even someone who could comprehend that home for her was not Thedas. At the very moment that thought drifted through her mind the door to the tavern swung open with a loud thud, louder than it should have been, and in the doorway stood a man in clothes that did not seem to fit with the people she had met so far.

"Have no fear," He said gaining the curious attention of everyone in the tavern "I am Alexius and I am your salvation."

* * *

It did not take long for the Tevinter Magister to take complete control of the Redcliffe mages. At first he had been very reasonable, offering the scared people kind words and counsel in their times of need. Then he went on to talking up his home nation, Tevinter, and how the mages ruled there, that they could be free there. Cynthia had not known that mages were feared in this world, magic was always revered in her LARP game and in so many films and TV, not always but most of the time. She learned that the reason mages were so feared was not wholly their use of magic but their vulnerability to demonic possession. Things began to make sense when this was explained to her, a demon had tried to take her body within minutes of being in Thedas and that thought alone chilled her to the core.

Alarm bells really began to ring when word reached her that Alexius was convincing people to indenture themselves to him. He said that they had to earn their citizenship in Tevinter but if the only way to get somewhere was through slavery, Cynthia wanted nothing to do with it. That was in fact one of the reasons why she was hidden away in a cobwebbed library in a seemingly forgotten part of Redcliffe Castle, yes, somehow whoever owned the castle had given it to the mages and promptly left, along with any non-mage in the vicinity. She was avoiding the Tevinters the best she could while also looking through the dusty tomes, trying to find any reference to magic mirrors or interdimensional travel, it was a long shot she knew but she couldn't just do nothing. This then led onto her next problem, the books, the majority of the small library was filled with historical tomes, scrolls of military strategies, there was even a smutty little number about a guard captain but she could not find anything on magic, like it was purposely purged from the shelves. It occurred to her that this might have been why the Tevinters had shown no interest in this little nook of the castle.

In the evenings the mages would all congregate in the great hall and dine with their foreign overlords. Alexius said it was to show their unity but Cynthia recognised it as the power play it was. His very presence dominated the room, she was sure he used magic to augment the effect, as he sat at the head table with his son, Fiona, other important mages and Tevinters. She would play the meek little mouse when being watched, she didn't want any special interest taken in her, and would sit as far from the head table as she could. Torrin had been one of the more vocal mages when stating his distrust of the Tevinter mages and as she sat nibbling at that night's dinner she noted that this was the third day she had gone without seeing him. Ella was sat beside her and would talk to her subtly between mouthfuls of food, seemingly without moving her lips noticeably, she said that the tension felt like this in Kirkwall just before the rebellion started. It felt like something really bad was about to happen but they just couldn't see what it was. Finn had eaten the Tevinters bullshit like it was fine dining, he had disappeared too but Cynthia suspected for different reasons to Torrin.

The mages still had lessons within the confines of the castle walls, though they were _free_ to govern themselves Alexius wanted them to have a _proper_ Tevinter education in magic. Reluctantly she would admit that the lessons were helpful in her understanding the power she wielded but it also furthered her belief that the instructors were bat-shit crazy for believing half the stuff they were spewing. That demons though dangerous just needed a proper hand to control them, that using blood to augment magic was not as barbaric as it seemed, 'as little as such practises are used' the instructors would insist with a laugh like the idea was a light-hearted joke.

Life continued like this for Cynthia for weeks, scour the library, separate the valuable information of her lessons from the propaganda, attract as little attention as possible around the Tevinters and on the whole just try to keep her sanity in check. It was during one of these routine days that she bumped into someone she thought she would never see again.

"Torrin!" She startled, having bumped into him and dropped all her Tevinter selected homework on the floor. After the few minutes it took to pick up the books herself she looked up at her former mentor, he looked like he was staring at something far away even when he looked at her directly. "Where have you been? I was worried about you." She asked confused by his detached state and the uneasy feeling that went right along with it.

"The Magisters were educating me, we have so much to learn from them and I needed to learn." He said with an easy going smile on his wrinkled face, the chipper look sent a shiver down her spine. He was… supporting the Tevinters? She had watched enough television to know when someone had been brainwashed.

"We do don't we?" She asked with the best optimism she could muster "I should probably go, I don't want to waste time not learning from them." Her words made his face contort into what should have been a smile but it seemed so unnaturally forced that she had to look away. He nodded pleased with her and allowed her passed him into the corridor beyond and she took the opening as steadily as she could. The urge to bolt raced through her veins but she had spent so much time not arousing attention she couldn't allow herself to slip now.

When she reached the room she shared with Ella she dropped the books on the floor and flopped onto her bed sighing in relief. Her roommate was sat on a cushioned window seat looking out towards Redcliffe village and beyond into the Hinterlands. Rumer had reached them that an organisation called the Inquisition was very quickly emerging from the ashes of the disaster at the conclave, the whispers circulating the castle was that they were building power and that they were looking for alliances. Apparently there had been letters delivered to Alexius' quarters with a wax seal of the Inquisition of old but nothing had ever come of it that the mages knew of. There was also rumour that the Herald of Andraste herself had come and closed the rift at the gate, even got as far as the local tavern before leaving the village. Ella held hope that they would be rescued by the seemingly virtuous group but they sounded too good to be true to Cynthia and the mages had been too quick to trust Alexus. She wondered ruefully if the mages had allied with the Inquisition instead would their situation have been any better. She doubted it, everyone in this world seemed to be after power, and in the worst way possible it reminded her home, the oily slick politicians, the third world warlords, seedy gangs in the underbelly of every city. Maybe this was one of the reasons she so readily dived into the fantasy world of LARP, it seemed so much simpler.

"Cynthia look!" Ella suddenly interrupted her sombre thoughts, when she looked up the woman was glued to her window. Quickly she hurried over to see what she was fussing about. "There at the gate." Cynthia looked where she was directed Ella cast a quick charm to augment their eyes, basically zooming in on the gate, and they watched in awe as a small group walked right into Redcliffe village. How it was possible eluded the LARPer but a bubble of hope seeded itself inside her, an air of excitement buzzed around them before their charm broke and they were faced with one of the Magister's henchmen standing in the middle of their private chambers.

"Alexius wants everyone to gather in the grand library, immediately." His words allowed no argument, but it also sparked irritation in her. _Of course_ there was a grand library, how had she not thought to look for one when she was looking for answers. The women offered no resistance as they followed the imposing man down to where all the other mages had been gathered. Apparently they had yet to gather the mages that were in the Gull and Lantern but the Tevinters were already on their way to rectify the situation. Soon all the mages were gathered together in the library, save for the notable presence of Grand Enchanter Fiona, forced into silence while Alexius played host to the visiting Herald. Cynthia guessed he didn't want any stray mages to see what he was to do with the delegation, which seemed like very bad news for everyone.


	4. Wibbly Wobbly, Timey Wimey

A year had passed and Thedas had truly gone to shit.

Orlais had fallen to chaos after the assassination of its Empress, swarms of demons had ravaged the lands until nothing was left to oppose the Elder One, for he was a god.

Not long after the murder of the Herald of Andraste the Venatori had discovered Cynthia's secrets, her magic was somehow different to that of Thedas and her being from another world had made her an exquisite testing subject. They learned that her world was one without magic and that because she was a natural born mage her blood craved magic. When they fed her lyrium for the first time her blood absorbed it, amplified it and became stronger, then came the red lyrium trials. The blighted stuff bonded to her more successfully than anyone they had ever seen before. To native Thedosians it consumed them from the inside out and eventually used their bodies as nutrients to grow, but for her it replaced her blood completely. She glowed in unnatural red hues, her magic was more powerful but dangerous and unpredictable, so much so they had had to use chains with runes carved into them to dampen her magic. She had become the perfect vessel for the lyrium and they regularly drained her blood for the _perfected_ resource. It corrupted her mind and soul, all thoughts of home had evaporated the moment the crimson curse had touched her lips. That was how the impossible Herald had found her, bound and chained to a runed operating table in a room that had been her world for too many months.

"Maker! What did they do to you?" A gruff feminine voice floated over her. Cynthia's strength had been drained from her along with her blood so she could only just roll her head to see who had spoken. There in the doorway stood a fully armoured red headed dwarf with the impossible mark of the Breach glowing on her hand. When she stepped into the room she was followed by her tainted companions, subjects of earlier failed red lyrium experiments, and a mage so very Tevinter her insides burned at the sight of him.

"This is her," a glowing red, bald elf mage seethed "The Otherworlder that cemented the Elder One's power!" Though they had never met she could see the deep seated hatred in his eyes as he glared at her, the sense that she was a lamb about to be devoured by a wolf consumed her.

"Otherworlder? The hours Alexius and I spent theorising about other worlds it seems too ridicules to even contemplate." The puffed up Vint crooned as if to a crowd enraptured by his oh so perfect self, she hated him most.

"Time. Magic." The dwarf rogue reminded him in her almost American accent as she riffled through the various experimentation notes left carelessly on the desk, like no one ever expected anyone to stumble upon them in the middle of the stronghold, once she was finished she stuffed the notes into a fat looking pouch.

"T-time… magic…" Cynthia wheezed as she managed to take in the implications of what they were saying around her. None of the mages had been told what actually happened that day and since her imprisonment the only information she got on the outside world was what she heard her guards and torturers say around her. The Vint gave her a brief explanation of what had happened to them, this irritated the half dead archer, if what he said was true and they had been flung forward in time then there was a chance. She had seen 'Back to the Future' and 'Doctor Who' often enough to know. "Time can be… rewritten…" If they could go back they could stop the whole fucked up future from happening.

"My, my, she catches on quick." The primped mage snarked as he examined her lyrium addled state more closely, to which he was quickly warned not to touch her as the red lyrium that ran through her veins was far more powerful than the unfiltered kind they were used to.

"Don't worry," The Herald addressed her in a soothing manner "when we fix this I'll make sure this 'Elder One' never gets his hands on you." Her words were comforting in a way, the thought that this might never happen a cool balm to her tainted soul, but another thought occurred to her.

"Y-you…" She coughed weakly trying to force the words out "even if you… go back and fix… y-your timeline, this… this one may still… exist… you would never know it." Her next request had been something she had longed for since she was tainted but the words were still difficult to form in her lyrium laced lips. "I have damaged… this world… enough… p-please…" Her strength was failing her but the magics in place around her would not allow her to simply die.

"I understand." The dwarf said grimly pulling a dagger from its holster, the Vint protested saying this was unnecessary but the elf mage agreed with her logic though he was clearly not heartbroken over her request.

Cynthia closed her eyes and thought of home before a sharp pain and then blissful nothing.

* * *

It had been hours since the Tevinters had locked the mages away in the Grand Library and Cynthia was beginning to get anxious, as if sensing this Ella slipped a comforting hand onto Cynthia's shaking one. There were hundreds of mages all squished and cooped up together and the lingering sense of unease was becoming more dangerous. Then almost all at once their Tevinter overlords fell to the floor, throats slit, and in their places stood soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms. The room irrupted into cautious whispers, some more freighted than others, as the mages worried what was to become of them.

Soon after that the doors to the library opened wide allowing entrance to Fiona, and a group of others she did not recognise, Ella pointed out the King and Queen of Ferelden looking rather pissed off, and then in walked the group the two mages had seen entering the village hours previously. The red headed dwarf look quite imposing for one of her stature and, though she didn't know why, when their eyes met the Herald looked like she recognised her before turning to a mage by her side, he twirled his moustache when he looked over at her too. Cynthia had no idea what she had done to garner their attention, after having spent so long staying under the radar, but she was sure to find out.

The Grand Enchanter called for the mages attention and informed them that they had struck an alliance with the Inquisition and they were to leave immediately with them. The King quickly chimed in that none of them were welcome in Ferelden any longer due to their actions, this announcement made her bristle as the majority of the mages had had very little say in what had happened to them concerning the Tevinters. However the mages showed no resistance to this change, anything would surely be better than being indentured to a Magister, they gathered what little possessions they had and left in a large caravan towards the Headquarters of the Inquisition, Haven. It had turned out that after the fall of the Circles many of the mages had taken magical tomes away with them from their old libraries, fearing the knowledge would be lost. This news brightened the journey considerably for Cynthia as she spent any moment she could combing through the fragile pages looking for answers. Had she spent less time with her nose wedged firmly in books she would have noticed that the Herald or one of her companions was always nearby her, watching, studying, as if they were unsure how they were to approach her. Eventually though, the time came when the Herald could no longer ignore the danger the little mage had become in the future.

One night the large group had set up camp, they were only two more days away from arriving in Haven and Cynthia was once again sat quietly beside a campfire reading a too thin tome on ancient elven magics. She made an irritated grunting noise as she thumped the book on her lap, it was the only one on elven magic that she could find and she was pretty sure that it was written by a human with only a vague knowledge on what ancient magic was like. Her hands raked through her hair in frustration, she cursed the lack of any useful books the mages had managed to salvage and then suddenly she startled when she noticed the Herald herself was sat beside her, warming her hands. Cynthia attempted to subtly look around her only to be surprised that several of the famed Inner Circle were also _'casually'_ nearby.

' _Well,'_ She thought grimly _'I'm screwed…'_

"You're Cynthia right?" The Herald asked, clearly going for spontaneous conversation when Cynthia was certain it was anything but. A sharp ring of metal sounded through the air as a stern looking armoured woman began to sharpen her sword, if she was trying to be unthreatening then she was epically failing.

"I-er… yes?" She responded trying to hide how intimidated she was by the abundance of seasoned warriors that had literally just taken down a Tevinter Magister that every mage in Redcliffe had been too afraid to be in the same room with. Her hands gripped the previously irritating book tightly as she attempted to keep them from shaking.

"Seeker, stop sharpening your sword or Dimples might wet her robes." Cynthia looked up sharply to see the woman scowl at the dwarf that had spoken. The thought to question the nickname so far from her mind it barely registered as a thought.

"I was not frightening her!" She protested in an accent Cynthia couldn't quite identify. The warrior then looked to the Herald with an expression that said ' _you wanted casual that was casual_ ' before the Herald pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"Look," The dwarf woman said clearly irked at the lack of help her friends were being "I assume you heard about what happened when we faced Alexius?" Cynthia could only nod in response, rumours spread quickly when a large group of people had little to do but walk and talk. "We went to the future and the world was-"

"Not the golden ray of sunshine we're used to." The overt mage interrupted as he was lounging casually beside the fire on blankets and pillows as if it were a day at the beach.

"Yeah, that." The Herald grunted as she was interrupted again and received no apologies from any of them. "Anyway," the rogue paused and when no more interruptions came she continued "While we were there we learned lot about the Elder One's plans… and how you accelerated them." The next pause seemed like it was to allow Cynthia time to digest what was being said to her.

Between the Herald and the Tevinter mage she was told about what had become of her in the future. The imagery they painted was a little too vivid for comfort but she listen as best she could but before she could form any kind of response the book she had been gripping was deftly plucked from her. She wasn't sure when the elf mage had gotten close enough to take the book he was then examining and she clearly did not have the skill to read the non-expression on his face before he dropped the book on the ground, like it was dog shite.

"What did you hope to gain by reading that?" He asked, his head a little bird-like as it tilted to the side in what she assumed was curiosity.

"A way home." She told them simply, honestly, there was no point in lying to them if they already knew. Several meaningful looks were shared around the group before she got any kind of response from them.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot." The deceptively delicate looking Herald smiled, trying to be friendlier. "My name is Sirav Cadash."


	5. Heaven ain't a place on Thedas

“I’ll begin preparations to march on the summit. Maker willing, the mages will be enough to grant us victory.” Sirav’s military commander said as they concluded their brief meeting in the Chantry hallway. Cynthia was sat on a small bench just inside the Chantry’s entrance beside the dwarf, whose name turned out to be Varric, as he was calibrating his complicated looking crossbow and obviously not babysitting her. She didn’t mind too much though, after the less than stellar first official meeting the Herald and her companions had turned out to be quite endearing. That said, she had spent the remainder of the journey being flanked by Dorian and Solas, the mages seemed fascinated by her ‘Otherworld-ness’ and would pepper her with questions whenever the chance arose. Solas was far more restrained in his questioning than Dorian but he would listen all the same when Dorian asked a question that he would not.

She looked up from her hand wringing to notice that the group in the hallway had not disbursed as she thought they would at the end of their meeting but they continued to speak and occasionally looked over at her. _‘Ah.’_ She thought, realising that they had started to talk about her and how she might affect the Inquisition.

“Ah, shit.” She jumped slightly when Varric spoke, no longer calibrating Bianca but reading the lips that were just out of earshot. Giving him a nudge Cynthia motioned at the group with her head, he was very reluctant to tell her what they were saying which would make anyone kind of twitchy. Quickly enough he relented, obviously figuring she would find out soon enough. “They are weighing up their options. Ruffles is saying something about you being an innocent but Curly and the Nightingale seem to think that the risk outweighs the benefits of keeping you safe.” Her face blanched when he told her this, making him immediately place his comforting hand on her shaking one. “Listen, Dimples, you’re new so I understand the worry but the Herald over there,” he said gesturing over to the small woman arguing heatedly with her advisors “She’s a good person and I doubt she would let anything happen to you just because you took a wrong turn. Though ending up in a different world is a whole new concept of no sense of direction.”

When they had explained to her what had happened to her in the alternate future and her role in the downfall of Thedas Cynthia had had no words. She had thought they would just kill her outright, too dangerous to live, but the Herald said that she had made her a promise and, despite the fact it had been to a parallel her, the Herald intended to keep it. It seemed whether it was to get her home or simply keep her out of the Elder One’s clutches Cynthia wasn’t sure but as terribly selfish as it was she was so relieved.

The pair on the bench watched as eventually the advisors bowed to the will of their Herald despite their reservations, though if the look the hooded woman was giving her was anything to go by she was going to be watched. Closely.

* * *

 

It had been unanimously decided that Cynthia’s magic was too much of a variable to be used to close the Breach, so when the Inquisition mounted the assault on the damned thing she was left behind in Haven. The plan went off without a hitch and everyone returned promptly to a large celebration.

There was dancing, drinking and all around merriment, it felt to Cynthia like she was back home during a carefree night of LARP or maybe a little of the unbridled cheer at Christmas with her family and though she was completely surrounded by happiness she couldn’t seem to bring herself to smile.

She had been in Thedas for over a month and she was no closer to finding a way home, no closer to understanding how or why she had gotten there in the first place and what she was supposed to do with herself if there was no way back. The last thought was the one she dreaded the most. In her world she had been training to become a teacher and she had been so close to gaining the qualification. But what need would Thedas have for an art teacher? When they were constantly besieged by Blights and dragons and aspiring gods? What good was she there when she barely had any control of the one thing that made her useful in that world, magic.

“And here I thought the Seeker had taken all the sombre with her, my mistake.” She jumped slightly at the unexpected appearance of Varric sitting down beside her in the rowdy tavern. Then she noticed the fresh tankard that had not been there when she sat down, the dwarf smirked at her while he drank from his own tankard before she tentatively took a sip. It was awful, like watery Weetabix and some kind of herb but she drank it anyway, maybe she just needed one night when she didn’t need to worry about what would happen from one moment to the next.

The next moment the tavern was on fire and the ceiling was collapsing in on them.

It was then she found out she could create barriers. It was only small and felt like a reflex action but it had protected her and Varric from the majority of the collapse. With a rather cartoony popping sound the barrier burst, throwing up dust and letting the final bits of debris fall to the ground.

“Andraste’s flaming ass,” he sputtered taking in the destruction around them “what just happened?!”

“That’s a… good… question.” She choked out as she fell into a coughing fit, the dust in the air setting off her asthma. Quickly she unbuckled her pouch, pulled out her inhaler and took a deep breath of the medicine. It soothed her lungs momentarily but she needed to leave the dusty ruin quickly or it would just set her off again and as her only inhaler she didn’t want to waste the lifesaving medication. The pair quickly began to make their way from the smoking rubble when they heard a voice calling out from behind them. Varric immediately turned around to find whoever was still inside but Cynthia, she couldn’t do it, she wasn’t a hero and she just… she couldn’t risk it.

As quietly as she could she leaned on the wooden fence and took deep calming breathes, when she could feel her lungs filling up properly again she put her inhaler back into the safety of her pouch. The sound of swearing was the preamble to Varric emerging from the embers of the tavern with the barmaid leaning heavily upon him. When he looked up at her he gave a look of understanding but beneath it she could sense his disappointment. She felt terrible but she knew she wouldn’t have done anything differently given a choice, so she went to his side and wordlessly helped take a little of the injured woman’s weight from him.

They made their way to the presumed safety of the Chantry, watched as the Herald and some of her friends rushed off to deal with what was happening and eventually became confronted with their attackers, the Red Templars.

Cynthia could feel the corruption coming off them in waves that sent shivers down her spine. Was this how she had looked in the future, with spears of red lyrium jutting out at every angle, it was something she really didn’t want to think about. Quickly she had the full weight of the injured woman leaning on her as Varric pulled out Bianca and started shooting up the enemy. She felt useless just standing there but she was such a novice with her magic and she didn’t even have her staff with her, it was somewhere in the rubble of the tavern. A red archer fired arrows at them but her barrier surrounded her when the first arrow came too close and when the warriors descended upon her it became harder for her to maintain the shield that they slammed their shields against. The closer they got the more she could feel it, like it was stretching out, yearning to make contact with her, the lyrium almost calling to her to let it consume her.

Just as the templars broke through her barrier they all seemed to simultaneously freeze solid and it was then that Cynthia saw someone stood at the entrance to the Chantry, just a few feet away. Madame Vivienne stood imposingly, back rigid straight, with her eyes focused on the spell she had woven over the templars and before it could be broken she sent a bolt of lightning to shatter their lyrium crazed enemies.

“Thank you, Madame de Fer.”Cynthia said gratefully as she and Varric helped their charge the rest of the way to their refuge.

“It is no trouble, my dear, though it is unsettling that the templars would attacks us so readily. I had hoped an alliance was salvageable.” Her words were cool and calculating, face not giving anything away as if she still wore her Orlesian mask, perhaps she did metaphorically. “Come now, we should see this young woman to a healer.”

“That’s fine, Dimples, you don’t have to voice your gratitude.” Varric teased once the barmaid was being seen to, she was about to say something but quickly realised he was trying to relieve the tension he felt.

“Thanks, Varric, you are my eternal shiny hero.” She quipped once her mind was back in the right place. Then someone cried out in pain and two people tumbled through the tall wooden doors. One was a priest, gravely injured, the other was a ragged looking boy in a floppy hat. The boy, no, young man was trying to get him to settle and rest but he refused until he could get as many of the villagers to safety as he could, soon after the Herald rushed in with her small group. The commander emerged from one of the side rooms and engaged Sirav, there was not a lot for them to do and it seemed like they were planning on one last hurrah rather than a viable way to survive. Then the priest, chancellor, told them of an escape route that the people could take to escape and then the plan to bury Haven was finalised.

Varric and Vivienne went with the Herald to confront the dragon, along with the Iron Bull, leaving Solas and Sera with Cynthia to help get people to safety. She wanted to go with them and help but she knew she would just freeze up like she did before, she was a coward and worse she was a useless coward. In an attempt to distract herself from her thoughts she got to work helping people carry provisions and anything they might need out to the bronto pulled wagons waiting in the passage way.

With the urgency everyone felt to get out of danger the large group were quickly a safe distance from the avalanche to come, the flaming arrow flew high in the sky just as Varric, Vivienne and the Iron Bull came running into view from the summer path. Moments later the trebuchet launched and the village of Haven was buried in rock and snow, along with the Herald of Andraste.

* * *

They had set up camp a few hours from what remained of Haven, they did not want to stay close in case the dragon survived but they could not trek too far as everyone was weak from fear and exhaustion. Tents were being pitched, firewood was being gathered and dried, all the while talk was minimal and moral seemed awfully low. The Herald had been perceived to be the only one with the power to repair their damaged world… and she had fallen.

Cynthia was stood with several other mages trying to gently dry out the firewood so that it would burn without smoke, they did know if their smoke would catch dangerous attention, but so far she could only make veil fire and it held no real heat to it.

“You concentrate too hard on the memory of flame.” A lilting voice approached from behind her. “Focus on the feel, on the heat that you want to produce.” The elf instructed, his arms held behind his back casually as he waited for her to complete the task. Cynthia tried not to be startled too much by the attention she was receiving from people deemed as important to the Inquisition but she honestly wasn’t used to it, though being looked in on every so often was better than being in the hands of the monstrous Elder One. Regaining her focus she attempted to do as Solas suggested and tried to feel the heat she wanted from her magic. It was different from the way Torrin had taught her, as briefly as that was, and from the ways the Tevinter instructors told her to use her magic as they had been about precision and calculation rather than using emotion to drive them. Cynthia had thought that letting her feelings shape her magic would help her before but Torrin had said it was too dangerous but she had heard that Solas had studied outside of a Circle and maybe his way was more suited to her.

Whatever the reason for it, his suggestion helped her almost immediately as gentle steam began to rise from the frosty log held in her hands. A wide smile spread across her face as she finally managed to do something even a little bit useful in that world. When she turned to thank Solas his head was tilted with, what she thought was, a quizzical expression on her face.

“I wonder how Varric knew you had dimpled cheeks,” He pondered aloud “this is the first time I have seen you smile.”

Before she could make any form of response the camp began to buzz with energy before people were suddenly crying out with joy. Sirav had just wandered into camp, dazed, exhausted, injured, but alive.

“The Herald of Andraste lives!”


	6. A space of her own

No one knew how Sirav had survived the avalanche in Heaven but as word spread, tales of her divinity grew with each telling. The story had gone viral amongst the Inquisition and Cynthia had no doubt that when they reached civilisation again the story would sweep across Thedas. She had always been an atheist, despite the stories there had never been anything back in her world that would convince Cynthia that there was some benevolent deity watching over the earth and even though she was in another universe, or dimension or something, she still had a hard time believing there was any divine providence to what was happening with Sirav and the Inquisition.

Instead she took the stories with a pinch of salt, these people needed to believe that there was a reason for all the bad happening in their world, who was she to tell them that she thought they were wrong and force her opinions on them? They needed a saviour and even if she thought it was superstitious twaddle she would keep it to herself. No point in angering the locals over her beliefs.

It was something that she kept in mind when the Inquisition camp burst into song on the night of Sirav's return. The song itself had been beautiful and inspiring, she had found herself humming quietly when they repeated the chorus, and she had a suspicion that one of the chantry mothers was proving a point to the Herald but afterwards the morale of the survivors had increased. It helped her remember that belief was important, to believe in something be it a god or a friend or yourself. It was something that she mulled over as they journeyed to wherever Sirav began to lead them the next day.

Though only a few seemed to know where the large group were being lead the Inner Circle had made sure that they mingled with the servants, recruits and general lesser known members of the Inquisition, which seemed to be a welcomed outcome on all accounts. The Iron Bull and his Chargers, though they seemed to stick together, appeared to lighten the mood of anyone nearby and were more than helpful when it came to moving supplies or setting up and taking down camp. Sera had been keeping herself busy with the common folk, laughing and teasing them and more often than not rushing away from a prank she pulled. It became a running gag that if you saw Sera running away you were more than likely going to get an eyeful of something hilarious. Though her presence was not a carefree as other members of the Inner Circle Vivienne spent a lot of her time keeping a watchful vigil over the Redcliffe mages, Cynthia included, with what a lot of people dubbed as her Iron Stare but as Cynthia watched the Iron Lady watch the mages she got the feeling that she cared more deeply about her fellow mages then she let on. Though she tended to keep the thought to herself as when she mentioned it once all she got in return were some confused and some irritated stares. Blackwall, like Bull and his men, spent the majority of his time helping the wagons and anyone that looked like they needed him and would often appear at the night time campfires to hear stories told of his heroic order, apparently there were a lot of stories. Cynthia didn't see a lot of Cole and when she did he was flitting around helping people the best that he could. Sometimes she would see him talking with Solas or Varric but other than that she didn't have any contact with the strange boy. Solas, aside from his brief time with Cole, spent his time at the head of the group and seemed to be giving Sirav directions to somewhere but other than that the apostate was distant. Sirav obviously spent her time at the front leading the caravan of survivors, often talking with Solas and the Inquisition leadership, she also spent a lot of time conversion with Dorian. It made Cynthia and the other Redcliffe mages a little uneasy that she was so close to a Tevinter Mage but that was mainly due to prejudice and Cynthia's only experience of Tevinters were her previous ' _owner's_. He seemed nice enough though and Sirav had so far been a pretty good judge of character. Cassandra had mainly been up front with Leliana, occasionally Cullen, and her aura was so imposing that Cynthia was a little too intimidated to try to talk to the Seeker. Varric didn't help on this account. He was the only member of the Inner Circle that she spent any real time with, they would joke around and sometimes he would ask her about her world. He would take notes of the interesting things she told him, 'Just in case', he would joke. When he first asked her questions about home, Earth, she thought that it would make her sad but instead it had been nice to talk about something familiar. In some ways it made it feel less far away somehow.

Eventually the large group came upon their apparent destination, Skyhold. It was a massive fortress that was just casually sat in the mountains like it had been waiting for them to arrive. It was strange that when they walked through its massive gates it wasn't looming over them, like one would expect, instead it felt like it was welcoming them home. She wasn't sure why she had that impression but the awe inspired looked on the faces of the people around her seemed to reflect her thoughts. Despite how formidable it had looked on the outside upon closer inspection the castle was clearly the bare bones of the impenetrable fortress it obviously once was. The majority of the wooden support beams were half rotten through or broken and the stonework, though well-constructed, had suffered due to lack of maintenance. The Inquisitions workers, the ones that had survived Haven, were optimistic about the work that lay ahead of them and the positive buzz seemed to be going around. The leadership quickly found their feet when they had reached their new stronghold, jobs were divvied out amongst the Inquisition and the allied mages. though the mages, the majority of which had grown up in secluded towers, were not as physically capable as some they pulled their weight helping with the re-construction, using telekinetic spells, and also many lent their skills with the healers as many were still injured or sick. The mages made no mistake in thinking that they were not being carefully watched by their allies but it was in no way as oppressive and intrusive as the templars had been so there was little complaint.

The first few days in Skyhold had been exhausting for everyone and there had been very little time for too deep an exploration of the old halls, though Cynthia had no doubt that scouts had been sent to check everything before too many civilians started poking around. The progress that was being made was promising though and one day, after her work had been completed, she found she had enough energy left to muster her curiosity and take a look around the fortress. Cynthia had become quite familiar with what was becoming the mage's tower, that was their temporary accommodation but a lot of them were getting comfortable, and had stumbled upon the Inquisition's dungeons, a guard was stood in the empty chamber and didn't yell at her so she called that one a win, before she wandered through the main hall. There were several side doors that lead to rooms loud with occupants so she tried to find the quiet places, the interesting places, this lead to her walking down a very long staircase that was steeper than she had first thought and lead out into a small but very impressive hall. There were beautifully carved pillars, perfectly intact dwarven looking statues and a large stunningly preserved painting of a landscape she assumed to be Thedas. There were a few more side rooms that she poked around in but there was little to interest her until she found a seemingly private study/library. It was thick with dust and cobwebs, so much so that she could see the faint imprints of scout’s footprints on the floor and on some of the books, it looked to be almost untouched by prying eyes and she immediately fell in love with the little room.

Over the next few days after she had finished her tasks she would go down into the little nook to clean the dust and the cobwebs. The work was slow as she was often too tired at the end of her day to do too much but she was determined for some reason to restore the study to some previous form of grandeur. Eventually she cleaned enough of the space to allow her to begin looking through the forgotten books that had been left there. The large book that had sat open on the large desk was extremely fragile to touch, she found this when she tried to turn a page and a section crumbled under her fingers, so she resolved to find out if there was a way to magically preserve the knowledge at a later date. For the time being she left it alone and focused on looking through the much sturdier books that had filled the shelves lining the walls to the majority of the study. There were small trinkets, sat on the desk beside the fragile book, that she had no idea as to their functions and every so often would take them up to the researchers in the main library. The Tranquil would thank her and begin research on the objects that were unfamiliar to her, some had turned out to be very common objects in Thedas that Cynthia had simply never come across before.

Her odd hours and penchant for discovering strange trinkets had seemingly not gone unnoticed. Dorian would ask her where she had found the little baubles and Varric would inquire where she kept disappearing of to, it wasn't that she wanted to keep it from them but she enjoyed the little corner of Skyhold that was just hers, and so she would reply evasively or give a mysterious wink.

When Skyhold was deemed adequate the new Inquisitor deemed it safe enough for the Inquisition to begin reaching out into the rest of the world again, make it a better place and all that. Sirav soon set off from their fortress, Dorian, Iron Bull and Blackwall in toe, to the Fallow Mire to rescue some Inquisition soldiers that had been reported missing and were planning to return via the Hinterlands with Dennett and his horses for the Inquisition as well. Two birds one stone so to speak. This left the majority of the Inquisition and its allies to continue with the renovation work and plans were in place to have it looking significantly improved to coincide with the return of their glorious leader.

Despite all the radical changes that she had to face on a seemingly regular basis her routine was remarkably similar to how it had been when she had been in Redcliffe. She would attend her lessons, minus the Tevinter influence, in the morning with the other mages and spent her evenings reading in her little nook of a private library, the only real difference being that in the afternoons instead of further lessons the mages would assist with the inner workings of the Inquisition. The majority of them were divided up in helping with either construction or healing, depending on their strengths, and this had yet to change since their arrival at Skyhold. It had been decided that since Cynthia lacked the deep reserves of personal mana, gained over years of practice and study, that she would have needed to perform sustained telekinetic spells to assist with reconstruction it was decided her time was better spent learning the healing arts. She was glad of this decision as she found healing spells came to her a lot easier than telekinesis, in fact she was beginning to suspect that her talents lay in the gentler magics as her attempts at anything more destructive than veil fire were destined to fail before they began. Solas had speculated that her magic was innately different to that that was native to Thedas. Though she had not asked for his analysis he had been more than happy to share his theories with her and gave her little chance to argue. He said that it was primarily driven, by what he had seen, by her emotions and instincts, far more than any Thedosian mage he had ever encountered. He had told her that he was referring to it as Will magic for the time being as there had yet to be any clear skill tree to form from her particular magic affinity. Every so often he would appear to spend time talking with her about it, though it felt a little like he was studying or assessing her, and he would sometimes ask for her input in his theorising. Though she felt that these chats helped her to understand the elf a little better she found that she was still utterly incapable of reading him.

Eventually after weeks of sneaking down into the little library Cynthia decided to set up a small cot, as she had been falling asleep in there anyway, and unofficially claimed the little space as her own. It seemed to be fine as for the first few days there had been little comment made by those around her of her comings and goings. That was until one morning Cassandra suddenly appeared from seemingly nowhere while Cynthia was nose deep in one of the more interesting books she had found among the shelves. The mage probably wouldn't even have noticed the seeker if she had not cleared her throat to gain her attention, this lead to a rather comical thud as Cynthia fell out of her chair in surprise. No one had ever come down to that particular part of Skyhold, as far as she knew, and she had gotten very used to the privacy.

"There have been reports that one mage has been continuously out of the sight of her instructors and that she had stopped sleeping in the quarters assigned to her." She paused as she looked around the small chamber, every other room on that level had yet to be restored save for the one that she was stood within, it had been put to the bottom of the list as there were far more pressing matters concerning Skyhold. Her gaze moved from the large open tomes on the desk, a flicker of realisation crossed her face as she realised where the extra research items were coming from, and then fell on the small cot that was wedged into the corner of the room. It was a little cramped and the little mage had had to move a heavy looking iron post supporting the likeness of an owl atop it. "What exactly have you been doing down here?" The Nevarran asked with a look that said if Cynthia lied she might very well get thrown into the dungeon she had accidently wandered into when they had arrived.

"Well, I have been trying to see if I could find a way home… to my own world." She replied simply, there was no reason to hide what she had been doing and it wasn't that she was trying to be secretive in the first place she had just liked the privacy.

"I see. Have you found anything?" The imposing woman asked, seeming genuinely curious to her findings. Heaving a defeated sigh Cynthia sat back onto the chair she had been lounging in before and gave a brief rundown of the tid bits of relevant knowledge she had managed to put together. Though she was sure Solas had a working theory he had yet to share it with her, maybe he was still gathering his thoughts on the matter. "Then what are you doing now?" The thought crossed Cynthia's mind that Cassandra might be questioning her due to concerns that she might turn to blood magic in her self-imposed isolation and decided the best way to quash the idea was to be as open and honest as possible. She wasn't doing anything wrong.

Cynthia shrugged as she slid down in the worn musty chair. "I guess I'm trying to do something useful…keep myself from thinking too much about home." Cassandra paused as she listened to Cynthia's explanation, she took the time to listen and nodded as she seemed to make some kind of decision.

"Very well… I assume you spend most nights here?" She asked gesturing to the simple cot, blanket and spare robe rolled into a pillow. Cynthia had often, since coming to Thedas, been glad of her LARPing experience as it had made the transition a little easier on her and it made her grateful for whatever amenities Skyhold could offer. Safe to say when she found out that Josephine and Vivienne had commissioned a lavish bath house, for their Orlesian noble guests, she been thrilled and looked forward to getting a real bath.

"I do, I didn't mean to in the beginning but after a while it was just more convenient." The little mage sank further into the plush chair as she felt herself under the scrutiny of one of the most important people in the Inquisition, one of its founders even.

"That is what I thought." She surmised as she took a final look around the room before seemingly making a decision. "I will put in a formal request to assign you this room as quarters." The statement surprised Cynthia as she bolted upright in her seat and looked at the seeker in confusion. "You are spending all your time here anyway and Sirav said that she didn't want to risk the consequences if the wrong people found out about you. It seems safer to keep you separate seemingly by your own choice. Though I cannot promise that Leliana won't keep a close eye on you, it should be at a distance."

"Thank you, Cassandra." She smiled, dimpling her cheeks, and found that it was possible the warrior was not as hard as she wanted people to believe, Cynthia began to get the sense that there was a gooey caramel centre.

"I will see if there are any adequately sized beds available." Was her final remark before she made a quick exit from the room, the door closed promptly shut a little louder than was probably intended.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I have been writing this I have been thinking about where I want this to go and I think that I'm starting to lean towards exploring Cole as a character through this story and maybe eventually becoming a Colemance. If you have any advice in this regard please let me know and if that is not the kind of story you want to read then I thought it best to give notice earlier than later. Thank you for your support so far and hopefully I will see you again soon.
> 
> *Side note: I had to edit the chapter a little as I accidently ended the chapter thinking Cynthia had had a conversation that had yet to happen. I have been planning a little ahead and forgot where I was in relation to what she did and didn't know. So if you read the original version you got an accidental sneak peak, if you notice the change that is.*


	7. Cramping her style

Much to Cynthia’s surprise Cassandra made good on her promise within a matter of days and though it had been a bit of a squeeze there was now a pretty comfortable bed in her newly assigned quarters, it was official and everything. She was still expected to perform the same duties as before, as she was still technically part of the mage alliance despite her odd circumstance, and found that she was getting quite proficient in her healing spells. 

This, however, didn’t help her with a particular circumstance that she found herself in while curled up in her new comfortable bed. Mother Nature had sent her monthly gift, this time it had come wrapped in barbed wire and a bad attitude. It was not her first period in Thedas, that had happened in Redcliffe and was an entirely different debacle, only this time she had run out of what little lady’s problems supplies she had been fortunate enough to have with her when she transitioned into Thedas. Her cramps were usually quite mild and could be controlled with hot water bottles, chocolate and paracetamol but seeing as she happened to have none of those things available any longer she was unsure how to deal with the problem. When the first wave of cramps had started she had in fact gone to her mage friend, Ella, who said that she was unsure how to help as she didn’t get them but she did provide a reliable spell to get blood out of clothes, so that was a plus she supposed. She then went to the healing tent to ask one of them for a poultice recipe or something but they shooed her way saying they had more important things to deal with than her menstrual problems. Her hackles rose at that, it wasn’t like she was in their way and they didn’t need to be so rude to her, though it was possible her hormones were making her slightly more confrontational than normal. After the shouting match ensued Cynthia was banned from the healing tent until she could get herself sorted out, this added fuel to her fire as she stormed away. 

In the end she resorted to gathering a few healing herbs and boiled them into a tea. The result was something too bitter to finish and made her feel a little too lightheaded for her liking. So that left her to curl up into the foetal position in her bed while attempting not to move too much. She had done everything she could think of but her failures just left her drained and she was fighting to keep herself from crying. She missed being home with all the comforts that came with, pain medication, hot water bottles and comfort food were at the top of her list. Then her mind drifted into what she would be doing if she were home. She would be sat in bed with a hot water bottle on her belly, pain pills on the bedside table, Netflix on her laptop and a bowl of warm cookie dough. Cynthia had come to have a constant supply of the stuff in her freezer in case of emergencies and she really wished she had some. But she had once tried to explain pizza to one of the Skyhold cooks only to be shooed from the kitchen and she was pretty sure she would get a similar reaction if she asked for cookie dough. Though the pain seemed to be making her hallucinate as she could practically smell the sweet dough and feel the heat radiating from nearby. 

Slowly she peeked out from beneath her blanket to see that there beside her bed was a young man holding what looked like a baking tray in his hands. She bolted upright in her bed and the abrupt movement sent shocks through her body complaining at the sudden shift. She was about to ask what he was doing when she realised that in his hands he held a hot looking tray and despite the unfazed expression on his face she could see his fingers blistering an angry red. Quickly she took the tray from him, slightly singing her fingers in the process, and dropped it as gently as she could onto her desk. When she turned back around she noticed his lips had formed a frown as she started to fuss over his burnt fingers. She took his hands in hers as she began to recite a healing spell that she used quite often in the healing tent. 

“I came to heal the hurt. But I did it wrong and now you are trying to heal me.” He told her as he tried to pull his hands away but she kept a tight grip until she finished, though she had a suspicion that if he had really wanted to he could have pulled away from her grip. “You shouldn’t, I’m not real but you are and you hurt. Stinging. Biting. Fingers a distraction. Churning. Twisting. Knotting. A red flower blooms but the thorns catch. Tearing. Gouging.” She looked at him strangely as she gently took a glob from the gloriously warm dough and retreated to her bed to enjoy the comfort food. She wasn’t sure how he had known about her mind in that way but she was glad to have a little bit of home to drive away some of the menstrual sting. Wait, was that what he was taking about, how on earth had he known? She was about to ask when she looked up to where had had been stood to find nothing but an empty space. His exit had been as silent and seamless as his entry making her wonder if the herb tea had made her hallucinate the whole thing. Until, of course, she looked over at the cooling tray of cookie dough.

 

* * *

A few days later she was quietly holed up in her room when she heard the most peculiar sound, knocking at her door. It seemed almost foreign as very few people came down to the lower level and even fewer still came to visit her. Despite the oddity of it she answered the door to find Varric stood with a relaxed smile on his face. He asked her to join him for a drink in the tavern, said that she was on the way but she knew that her room wasn’t on the way to anywhere. 

“Hey Dimples, I was on my way to the tavern and just happened to be passing by your place, you want to keep me company?” The dwarf leaned casually on the door frame as he put forth his invitation.

“Well… you never seem to be short on company.” She replied a little awkwardly, the book she had been reading still clasped in her hands, Cynthia had just found the tome and it seemed to be a promising read. “You just walk into a place and your fans flock over.”

“Humour me? You spend so much time cooped up, it’s not healthy.” He said this like he had seen something similar before and regretted not doing more. The thought crossed her mind to decline and return to her book, maybe the answer to her being in Thedas was within the dusty pages she held in her hands, but the look on his face weakened her resolve considerably. 

“I guess it’ll make a nice change.” She could always read the book tomorrow.

The tavern was loud and radiating booze induced happiness. Bull’s chargers sat in what appeared to be their corner of the tavern, they were hard to miss. Sera was flitting drunkenly around the tavern with a mischievous look on her face that clearly made a lot of people nervous. Cynthia and Varric sat at the bar and shared few quiet moments sipping their drinks. 

After a while she started to loosen up and feel more like herself. Since coming to Thedas she had been assaulted by a demon, been indentured to a Magister and when she finally thought she was safe a fucking red lyrium dragon showed up. She had spent every day either terrified or focused on getting home. She had barely given herself time to breathe let alone enjoy herself. 

Varric tried to teach her a game called Wicked Grace and she in turn introduced a few others to Ring of Fire, though it seemed the cards they had were different to the ones she was used to. It ended up making the game a strange combination of both games that only really made any sense if one had had a certain amount of alcohol in their system. As Cynthia had predicted their table was quickly filled with people attracted to Varric’s wit and stories, the turn made the night far more enjoyable and remarkably hilarious.

The first rays of sunlight painted the sky by the time she stumbled from the tavern to find her way home. Varric seemed to have a swish room in the tavern, though apparently not as good the one he had in Kirkwall, so Cynthia was left to stumble through the empty halls of Skyhold alone. The courtyard and great hall were well lit but when she reached the lower levels the darkened corridors were almost pitch black. After several fumbled attempts she managed a little flicker of veil fire in her palm to light her way, she didn’t know her movements were being watched nor that when she eventually found her way to her bed and fell into a drink induced sleep that her observer would be waiting for her in the Fade. 

 

* * *

Arainia emerged from the cavern holding the mysterious elven amulet that had been calling to her for months on end. It was a relief to finally find the elusive object and when she handed it over to Myra the coven leader looked pleased.

“Well done Arainia, we will take this back for further study.” The elder witch smiled before she turned and they were back in the camp. 

The fire was wonderfully warm as she sat beside her brother listening to the wondrous stories being spun by the bards. As she was taking a sip from her frothing mug Arainia noticed that she couldn’t quite focus on what the storyteller was saying but it was like he was underwater. 

Then she was alone in the bustling camp, she could still hear people but they were nowhere to be seen, the fire flickered strangely when she looked directly at it and she found she couldn’t quite remember how she had gotten there. Cynthia paused for a moment as she looked down at the amulet that hung from her neck. She had never retrieved this nor had she returned to camp. 

None of it was real. 

“It is quite real.” An oddly familiar voice said from behind her causing her to spin around. 

“S-solas?” Cynthia asked confused as to why he was there and also why she was there. Nothing was making any sense.

“Yes it is me.” He confirmed as he stepped closer to her. Had she been a native Thedosian she probably would have questioned that, assuming he was a malevolent demon bent of possessing her body, but as it was she was still a stranger to so many things and despite the lessons she had been receiving from the rebel mages there was so much that she didn’t know. “We are in the Fade, if you had not yet guessed.”

“The Fade? I’m dreaming? But… no, when we dream we go into our own subconscious, you’re just a part of my dream. Though why I’m dreaming of you is something I’m going to have to think about later, are there therapists in Thedas I wonder?” She mumbled to herself as she retook her place sat in front of the large muted fire pit. 

“I too am quite real.” As he spoke he walked closer but his posture was different, the way he held himself, and he had this look that she just couldn’t process the meaning of. “Do not doubt that.”

“That is precisely what a figment of my imagination would say.” She shrugged despite the odd chill that ran through her. 

“Come now, you have been in Thedas for long enough, you must recognise this as the Fade or at least different to how your dreams once were.” He pressed further, not showing any sign of the frustration he must have felt. 

“Well…” she paused as she actually started to consider what he was saying to her. “My dreams have felt a lot more linear I guess.” Maybe he was right, as this thought dawned on her she noticed he was becoming less interested with her and more with the surroundings that they were in. 

“I see that your world is not as different as you made it seem.” The elf wandered around the encampment noting the bell tents, large log fire pit and the carved wooden tankards strewn about the place, though she could tell he had also noticed the electric lamps, plastic lawn chairs with haphazard fur draped over them and the little solar powered lights placed strategically around guy roped areas. Though when he found a LARP safe foam wand he was a little less than impressed when he picked it up and it flopped around like a limp… fish. Nope, nothing phallic popping into her mind at all or that would have been hilarious. 

She managed to stifle her giggles long enough to say “This isn’t where I live. This, this is a…” she wasn’t sure how to phrase it, surely calling it a game wouldn’t make any sense to him. Cynthia spent the next few minutes trying, and failing, to explain to the mage what live action roleplay was. In frustration she raked her hand through her hair but paused when she realised that Solas had become very still, almost like he was frozen to the spot. “What?” 

“You… are an elf?” He barely seemed to be able to get the words passed his lips, the unnaturalness of what they meant clearly making it difficult for him to say. 

“Huh? No. Oh, crap.” The words tumbled from her lips as realisation slowly dawned on her that she was in her LARP gear, fully equipped with her rubber elf ears. Quickly she moved her hand to the exposed ear and pulled the latex pointed tip off to reveal the completely normal human curve. A sharp intake of breath was followed by a sound of horror and then what she could only guess was an intrigued noise. He moved closer and inspected the flesh coloured rubber in her palm, very deliberate in his movements so not to touch it. 

“Why would you wear such a thing?” He queried clearly quite offended after he had had time to process what it she was held in her hand. 

“Look, this would be much easier to explain if I could show you what my world was really like.” She paused as mid-sentence the world around them flickered and changed until they were stood in the middle of a bustling city. It was almost like a scene from a movie, they were stood in the middle of a square surrounded by tall buildings, traffic lights, cars speeding passed and dozens of people going about their days but everything seemed to be frozen in a single moment. Light trailed beautifully from the cars that should have been in motion and everything was deathly silent. She then noticed she had changed into her everyday clothes, denim jeans and a fandom related top, making Solas stand out in his hobo mage apparel. “Huh, I didn’t know I could do that… feels a little Matrix-y for me though.” 

Solas walked around the square, at the paused people, at the blurred cars, the green glowing traffic light and pretty much everything else in the vicinity. He stopped every so often to point something out and ask questions. Cynthia felt like she had just let a five-year-old loose in Toys’R’Us but she answered all his questions the best she could despite her not knowing the more technical aspects he was curious about. 

“You said that your world was without magic.” Solas stated rather than questioned but cleared still expected an answer from her. 

“It is, we run everything on electricity and no, we generate it through technology, we don’t have any mages.” She tried to explain but had never really been very good at that kind of thing so she felt a little out of her depth. 

“You are proof that does not hold true.” He pressed clearly trying to further his understanding of her and her world.

“We don’t have Lyrium or the Fade either so that might be a thing.” She countered. 

“This still does not explain why you wore the trappings of my people.” He rebutted causing her to falter slightly before she puffed up and took a deep breath. 

“Okay, well, we don’t have elves here or qunari, we do have dwarves but they are a little different to the ones you’re used to. In my culture it’s all regarded as fantasy and some people, people like me, embrace fantasy and show our appreciation for it by different means. Some people read books, watch films and some of use kind of… act it out? I know it sounds weird, not everyone in my world gets it but there are a lot of people who like this kind of thing ok? Anyway, the ears, in the system I was involved with elves were quite rare and very respected creatures, you have no idea how much it took to convince the event runners to let me be one. My character, Arainia, was quite a powerful coven witch and when I finally got my first piece of personal plot, driven by her elf blood, it lead to me finding that stupid mirror that pulled me through into Thedas. The exact kind of wonderful magic filled place I have wanted to visit since I first watched Lucy step through the wardrobe and then it turns out to be full of demons and scary ass dragons and weird creepy Magister god wannabes.” She paused and looked back to the apostate. “Sorry, I stumbled into a little rant fest there.”

“Your manner makes me wonder if Sera fell from your world too and simply forgot.” He said offhandedly catching her a little off kilter. “But I think this is enough for one night, we can talk further when you awaken.”

Almost simultaneously with the words he had spoken Cynthia bolted up in her bed wide awake. 

“What the hell?” 


	8. Invading her FadeSpace!

After the abrupt awakening Cynthia sat in bed a while cradling her throbbing head, it seemed that the previous night’s drinking had caught up with her. She groaned and muttered to herself as she got dressed knowing that she needed to confront Solas. He was a Fade expert and if he had in fact visited her in her dream last night that meant that her mind went to the Fade while she dreamt. Her connection to the Fade should have come to her as no surprise, a mage needs access to the Fade to channel magic, but all her life dreams had always just been her head. Not some place that anyone, or thing, could pop into whenever they wanted to. The whole thing just made her a little uneasy so she did her best to brush it off as she made her way up the dark stair case.

When she entered the main hall she noticed that Varric wasn’t stood beside the fireplace scribbling notes, meaning he was probably still sleeping the previous night off. She was admittedly a little apprehensive when she approached the entrance to the rotunda and when she raised her fist to knock she found it hard to complete the motion. Eventually, after having a rather vocal mental argument with herself, she pulled herself together and rapped twice on the door. Not wanting to stop she immediately opened the door and poked her head through.

Within stood the familiar hedge mage in deep conversation with someone Cynthia had yet to meet. She entered quietly and waited for the two to finish their talk, they spoke too quietly for her to over hear their words so she knew she wasn’t being too rude. As the pair spoke she looked over the strange young man, he was taller than Solas so he was probably human though his large hat made it a little difficult to see him clearly. When she did catch a glimpse of his face it was only the edge of his jaw or the ghost of his lips. Cynthia found herself looking at him quite closely as she had the oddest feeling that she had met him before, somehow, but the memory felt just out of reach. Then the two looked up as if they had only just noticed her presence.

“Ah, Cynthia I had been expecting you.” He nodded before turning to the slender man “We can continue this discussion later Cole.” Then he was gone.

“Solas, who was that?” She asked quickly, it felt like her thoughts were becoming clouded even as she was speaking. “The… the erm… I’m sorry what were you saying?” The elf looked intrigued, she could practically feel the cogs turning in his mind.

“I wonder why he… never mind.” He quickly cleared his throat before he addressed her fully. “I assume you have questions for me.”

“Huh, right yeah. What the hell was with last night? I mean how did you...? Why did you...?” Her previous line of questioning forgotten she moved on to the jumble that she had been practicing thoroughly in her mind on the way up.

“I see, join me?” He asked motioning to the desk with a steaming kettle and cups. She agreed as he began to pour out the tea, though she thought she saw him grimace when she took a sip from the cup he offered her. “You… like the tea then?”

“Yeah, it actually tastes spookily like the stuff I drank at home.” She smiled as she took another sip before noticing him having a decidedly negative opinion of the steaming brew. “But, you don’t like it, why drink it?”

“It helps to shake the Fade from my mind when it must be on other things.” He said simply as he returned the cup to the desk with more distain than the inanimate object deserved. “But, to answer your question, the reason I was in your dream was in part curiosity. Of you and your world. It was truly a wonder to see such a strange place.”

“I guess that means a lot coming from someone who has spent a lot of his time roaming around in people’s dreams. You must have seen a bunch of strange and wonderful places.” Cynthia wondered, easily getting off track with their conversation.

“Indeed, the Fade is full of forgotten places, memories.” The elf said slowly unsure where exactly the otherworlder wanted to go with this.

“Will you tell me about them?” She asked as she planted herself down on the floor to listen to him and shifted around to get comfortable.

“All of them?” He chuckled, a little at her request and a little at her position on the floor like a child asking for a story, then he sat in his chair and leaned a little on the arm towards her.

“Not all, how about your favourite?” She smiled as she looked up at him, it was a good chance to distract herself from thoughts of home for the moment.

“Very well.”

* * *

 

Several hours later Cynthia left the rotunda with a sense that she had gained a slightly better understanding of the hedge mage. With a smile she walked into the main hall to see that Varric had returned to his usual hangout by the fireplace looking none the worse for wear. He smirked as he noticed her walking towards him and when she asked him what he was doing his mirth grew.

“Oh, nothing much. Something for the Seeker as a favour to our illustrious leader.” He told her as he was arranging loose sheets of paper in some semblance of an order.

“Is this a new book?” She asked as she picked up a sheet only for it to be deftly plucked from her fingers before she could read a word.

“Yes, and I don’t do spoilers.” He told her with finality as he finished gathering the loose sheets until they were all tied together.

“I thought this was for Cassandra.” Cynthia asked curiously trying to get a peek at one of the pages before he tucked them into a leather satchel.

“It is.” The dwarf affirmed as he secured the leather bag closed to keep his pages from prying eyes.

“So spoilers don’t apply to her?” The earthling continued as she casually leaned against his desk with her hip.

“Of course they do but I may have done something to piss her off and this…” He paused for a moment clearly trying to think of a way to word what he wanted to say.

“Stops her from stabbing you in the book? I heard the rumours of how you were ‘recruited’.” The mage smiled cheekily, the Inquisition was full of people who liked to gossip and the Inquisitor and her inner circle were the hottest topics of conversation around.

“Something like that. Also, it should be pretty funny.” The rogue chuckled to himself as he finished sorting everything out and finally handed the satchel to what appeared to be a courier. To a publisher maybe? Or a book binder? Whichever it was it was certain Cynthia hade lost the opportunity to peek at the pages. “So, what were you talking to Chuckles about?” He pried despite the hypocrisy.

“Huh, oh, well I dreamt about him and-” She began before she heard a not so subtle guffaw from her roguish friend.

“I wouldn’t go there, Dimples, I can smell a romantic tragedy from miles away and if Broody taught me anything its best to stay away from complicated elves. Or complicated anyone really.” He warned in a tone that was half good natured mocking and half deadly serious.

“Well, okay, first of all no one is not complicated and secondly, I wasn’t dreaming about him he just showed up. Like, he hijacked my Fade space or whatever.” She attempted to clarify as the dwarf seemed to understand what she had meant.

“Yeah, I heard he did that to Sirav too, creeps me out.” He told her as he rolled his shoulders like he had just felt a shiver down his spine.

“Well, I guess him just popping in your dream without knocking first is kinda creepy.” She agreed finally realising that she had barely spoken to Solas about it, instead she had gotten distracted by his stories.

“It’s not that. Well it is but, dwarves don’t dream. We’re practically immune to lyrium and have no connection to the Fade, so no dreaming. Sirav though, she can, only dwarf I know that can. She said it’s probably the Mark but it feels wrong.” Varric informed her, she had had no idea that dwarves couldn’t dream, she had known they couldn’t do magic but not the extent. It seemed a little sad to her but Varric was living proof it didn’t affect their imagination.

Just when she was about to speak the door to the rotunda opened and Solas stepped out in their direction. The two immediately stopped speaking as he approached, how much had he heard? Would he be offended?

“Varric, a word.” He gestured towards the rotunda before nodding to Cynthia as acknowledgement before they left together promptly.

“What the hell was that about?” Whatever it was it had nothing to do with her, she assumed, and with a shrug returned to her little alcove of a room to do some more research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the lack of updates and filler-y chapter. Uni be crazy. Will get more up ASAP... *snickers* anyway. 
> 
> See ya next chapter!


	9. First meeting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm starting up the Colmance in this chapter. It's slow burn so be prepared.

Her room being a windowless sub-level library, lit only by a myriad of candles and veil fire, often made keeping track of time a difficult task for Cynthia. This meant that that night, as she plucked another book from one of the shelves and started to flick through it, she was unaware that the sun had already set.

Laid out on her bed she shifted in an attempt to find a comfortable reading position, eventually laying on her back with the book held in front of her. She knew it wouldn’t be comfortable for long. The book that she was reading seemed to have been written by some Orlesian noble that had spent his life exploring elven ruins and discovering forgotten artefacts, though as she continued to read she started to wonder how much fact he had simply made up. The words in the book were so dull and poorly written that her eyes began to droop even as they skimmed across the page. For a moment Cynthia drifted into sleep before a sudden impact to her face and a thump on the floor woke her with a start. Rubbing her sore nose, she glared at the fallen book for not defying gravity. She was just about to swipe the book up off the floor when she noticed the page it had landed upon and the illustration that was so familiar.

“Holy shit-balls, that’s it!” The young mage gasped as she swept the book up and hurriedly began to read the reams of pompous prose to find the relevant passage. According to Duke Florian de Montfort, the puffed up author, the mirror was used by its Tevinter creators for long distance communication during the height of their power.

She paused as she reread the last sentence, it was just for communication? It didn’t feel right but if it was Tevinter in origin then maybe she could ask Dorian. Though she had been avoiding the flamboyant mage due to her initial encounter with mages from his country, but according to every one of the fortresses gossips he was different. Maybe she should give him a chance. It wasn’t like he was personally involved with what had happened to the Redcliffe mages.

With this in mind Cynthia quickly made her way from the room and up the stairs until she reached the main hall. It was empty and the candles had burned low. Quietly she walked over to the main doors and peeked outside. All was dark and quiet save for the lit and rowdy tavern. The stars shone brightly in the velvet sky, it was at that point that she remembered that Dorian had gone with Sirav, the Iron Bull and Blackwall to get some horses for the Inquisition. With a deep sigh she returned to her room, placing the book open on her desk so she wouldn’t lose her place, but the thought of sleep was far from her mind. So close to an answer she felt a little wired and decided she could use a change of scenery. Grabbing her satchel Cynthia resolved to make her way to the tavern, the only place she knew for sure could give her a distraction until she felt tired enough to sleep.

She settled in a corner table, a window set in the wall behind, opposite to the bar but close enough to the fireplace to feel its warmth. From her satchel she pulled out some parchment paper and some charcoals, she had always preferred to sketch in ballpoint pens but seeing as she couldn’t pop down to the local WHSmith, charcoal had had to do. Cynthia sketched out quick little studies of people scattered around the tavern, the bartender cleaning glasses, the bard strumming her lute, two soldiers arm-wrestling and she was just about to start a new sketch when she noticed a shadow cast over her work.

“Don’t pull any frogy-shit magic on me, yeah. Your scribbles ‘int half bad.” The elven archer Sera told her as she looked through some of the drawings Cynthia had been doing. She had guessed that the blonde was afraid of mages but for some reason she had decided it was okay to approach. Cynthia didn’t mind, in fact she was a little curious, the elf was a little like one of her art students that she had known during her teacher training. Smart-mouthed, quick, clown of a broken little girl. Though she wasn’t sure if she had gotten a full read on the elf but for now it was nice that someone was appreciating her work. Even if they were making strange noises when they gave the sketches voices. “Hey do one of me, yeah?” The elf insisted as she slammed the sketches back onto the table and moved into a better position before striking a silly pose.

“Okay.” She smiled, finding the challenge entirely amusing and light hearted. Quickly sketching the pose of the archer Cynthia decided to go ahead and add a griffon, a rainbow and some sparkles before handing the finished article over to the overly excited blonde. She felt it would have been better if she had had access to colours but she only had her charcoals and had to do her best with what she had. At first Cynthia thought that Sera hadn’t liked her work but before she could say anything the elf let out a giggle-snort and bolted from the area with a huge grin on her face.

 “Light, loud, bright but delicate, I smother but you kindle.” A voice stated from beside her, “You helped.” The little mage turned to see a strange young man sat beside her, a large brimmed hat obscuring his face, his clothes tattered rags loosely stitched and pale skinned hands rested gently on the table top.

“I er… what?” She looked at him confused, it didn’t help that she couldn’t see his expression to know if he was joking or serious or what.

“She is afraid, that I see things hidden in the dark, bound buried, left to ebb into nothing. She doesn’t want my help.” He appeared to be trying to explain but she wasn’t sure what he was referring to, was he some kind of mage that could read minds or see visions? Was that even a thing in Thedas? “My name is Cole.” He said after a moments pause, the change of subject was a little jarring but at least she could comprehend the conversation now, introductions are simple enough. “Solas said I should stop making you forget and Varric told me to introduce myself.”

“I’m Cynthia- Oh, you know Solas and Varric… are you one of Sirav’s companions? I… when you say you made me forget?” Their words overlapped and it took her a moment to realise what had had meant.

“I help people and when they don’t need me, they forget me.” He said in the simplest sentence he had uttered so far.

“That must be very lonely for you.” She said with an empathising smile. It must have been some kind of magic they hadn’t taught her yet, or maybe it was apostate magic. If he was friends with Solas it was possible that he had some unique skills.

“This world, such a strange place. You want to help but don’t know how.” She looked at him strangely and words tumbled from his lips. “You don’t have to change. Just be. Not all songs are war cries. You are a lullaby. Sweet, soft, subtle but not silent.”

“Thanks?” She said pretty sure that there had been some form of compliment in there. It was silent for a few minutes before she finished her drink and stood from the table. “Would you like anything… from the bar?” Using her thumb, she gestured towards the barman that was still stood cleaning glasses.

“I don’t drink.” He stated simply.

“Oh, okay. I can get you water if you want.” She offered, respecting his sobriety, though he seemed to just stare up at her. His eyes were a cool blue.

“I don’t drink.”

“Right.”

A little later, the pair sat together in relative contentment as Cole spouted reams of nonsensical but poetic words and Cynthia scribbled delicately on her parchment.

“It’s nice to see you two voluntarily socialising, in a manner of speaking.” The familiar smooth voice brought her from her focused mind set to find the dwarf sat at the table with a foaming tankard of something or other.

The young mage had been in the middle of a profile sketch of her new acquaintance while he was otherwise distracted with whatever he was doing.

“His eyes are sad. Like they carry the weight of all they see. His hair a feather-light curtain, a veil. The hat broad and shadowing, a shield. Hiding, he is hiding from the world, he doesn’t want to be seen.” Her black stained fingers paused on her sketch when she looked up at Cole, had he read her mind or at least an impression of it?

“It’s alright Dimples, he does that sometimes.” Varric chuckled into his tankard as he picked up the small pile of paper set beside her. “These aren’t half bad.”

“Thanks.” She smiled a little nervously as the dwarf riffled through her sketches and Cole leaned over his shoulder to see the pictures. Wait, when did he? He had been sat next to her and then… Shaking her head she tried to put it out of mind, there was still so much in Thedas that she didn’t understand but was perfectly common. Often she found it difficult to differentiate when something inherently strange was happening because of this.

“Shining shimmering singing wisps of feeling not yours but made from you.” Cole mumbled as he looked over the sketches in Varric’s hands.

“More or less kid.” The dwarf agreed as he flicked through some of the older sketches that she had occasionally drawn since coming to Thedas.

“Wilting in the dark. Blood, darkness, slaving night and day. _I’m not a flower Varric._ ” Cole’s words seemed to shake Varric as he grasped the drawing in his hand. Cynthia peeked over to see what drawing they were looking it.

It was a sketch of the mirror that had drawn her into Thedas.

“Are you okay Varric?” She asked a little concerned that the usually vivacious dwarf had suddenly paled at the sight of it.

“Have you seen this before?” He asked seriously.

“Yeah, it pulled me into this world.” She answered him in a hushed tone knowing her origin was still only known to a select few but from his expression he clearly knew something about it. “Do you know something about it? I read that it’s Tevinter in origin and that its mean for communication but there has to be more than that.”

“Tevinter? Dimples, I’m not sure what books you’ve been read but Eluvians are Ancient Elven artefacts.” He paused for a moment. “I would look into another way home. These mirrors…” His eyes dimmed as if thinking of something painful.

If Varric was right and they were Elven in origin then maybe she should ask Solas rather than Dorian, all the same it seemed best to avoid the topic around Varric. Briefly she wondered what had happened to her friend to darken his view on the artefact so much, then she glanced up at Cole and thought it best to avoid the mind reader bringing up her questions.

A yawn escaped her lips as she contemplated her next move, deciding it was best to make up her mind in the morning she bid her friends goodnight and gathered her things. Her journey back to her room was uneventful but as she laid in bed she wondered if she would soon have the answer she needed to get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I made a Colmance playlist that i listen to while writing and i thought i would share it with you. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLaU_ppeeA--E7Q1yH-oeqYbpP6ZTSbSRI


	10. The writing on the wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Sorry this had taken me so long to finish but I'm currently doing a lot for uni at the moment. For now I can't make promises on updates being in any semblance of a time frame, but I will try to write more when I get the chance and post when it's ready.   
> Thanks for your patience.   
> Enjoy the chapter.

The next morning Cynthia was debating whether or not she should continue looking for more information about the mirror that had brought her to Thedas.

She sat in the healing tent, grinding elfroot with a pestle and mortar, as she weighed her options. On the one hand it was how she had gotten to Thedas in the first place, so theoretically it should be able to take her home and it was the only lead that she had. But on the other hand Varric had seemed so distraught when he had seen the sketch of the mirror that it made her wonder just how dangerous the contraption was.

By the time she had made up her mind to talk it over with Solas the elfroot had been ground into such a thin paste that it was almost unusable. Quickly she added more of the root to thicken the mixture to avoid being scolded by her scowling mentor. Cynthia managed to get away from the healing tent after finishing making some potions for their reserve, she quickly grabbed something from her room and headed towards the rotunda.

When she walked into the circular room the smell of fresh paint wafted over her and she realised that a large mural had been plastered high up the wall. She was surprised at the sudden appearance of the mural as it wasn’t too long ago that she had last spoken to Solas. Wonder washed over her as she drew closer, it was almost geometric in its use of crisp lines and sharp shapes, the use of autumn shades gave the impression of warmth or maybe something ending. The obvious focus was the central line forming at the top beneath clouds of eyes and then striking down to the bottom. After a moment she decided to take a step back to try and appreciate the larger picture when her back bumped into a solid object. Turning she realised that of course she had backed right into Solas, who had been observing her observe his work, she laughed at herself before quickly apologising.

“It is quite alright. What do you think?” He chuckled gesturing towards the mural she had just been appraising.

“It’s the destruction of the conclave, right?” She paused for confirmation before she continued “The column of light in the centre, flanked by mountains, these small triangles of light are rifts. It’s beautiful.” The style of his work was interesting to look at and once she allowed herself to understand it she felt the horror within the beauty. Though she had arrived after the conclave she had gained a lot of information about it, its purpose and the hope that it had represented.

“It was the beginning, what brought the Inquisition together, I felt that it should be documented.” He studied her for a moment before noticing the book and sheaves of paper in her hands. “But I doubt that you came to discuss my mural, what is on your mind?”

Not wasting any time, she took her drawings over to his desk and unrolled the parchments, the ones she had brought with her had all been of the mirrors, the one that had been in the cave and the one that had been in the ruin and then she opened the book to the page she had read the night before. Cynthia turned to look at Solas to see that the elf had grown very still and seemed to be eyeing her in a peculiar way.

“You have certainly been busy, how did you come by this…book.” The way he eyed the book was with a certain kind of distain that she had only seen on his face when he was sipping tea.

“It was in my room, well the library that became my room anyway.” She shrugged.

“By your seeing me I assume you gaged that these artefacts are not of Tevinter origin.” He turned completely away from the book in favour of looking through the sketches that he picked up from his desk and looked through as they spoke.

“Actually it was Varric that told me they were elvish.” She admitted rather sheepishly, knowing how ridicules the book had seemed while she had been reading it and then taking it at face value when she found the passage on the mirror.

“I see, what is your interest in these artefacts?” His eyebrow quirked in a kind of Teal’c fashion, the motion familiar yet still very foreign to her seeing it on Solas.

“You must have guessed, they’re how I came here and could be my way home.” Cynthia said incredulously, it seemed strange that he had not seen through her intentions, why would she be looking into ancient artefacts unless they could lead her home?

“I had an inkling. In fact, I must admit that I have been walking your dream paths more than I had let on, to see if I could find how you came here and indeed if it was a viable way to return you.” The elf admitted as he placed the parchments back onto his desk, completely ignoring the open book in favour of returning his full attention to Cynthia.

“Okay, for the moment I will let go the fact you have been snooping around my head in secret, did you find anything more than I have?” Irritation ran down her spine at the discovery of his invasions of her privacy but she smothered it in hopes that this might lead her to a way home.

“Unfortunately, much of this kind of knowledge has been lost to my people and roaming the fragments of your memories in dreams is difficult. I had been planning to go to the ruin that you emerged from to glean a stronger connection to the Fade but I do not want to leave before Sirav returns, in case she has need of me. This is her Inquisition after all.” He seemed forlorn at the mention of how much knowledge his people had lost but it was quickly shrouded in a light humour, as if to disguise the weakness his voice had betrayed.

“Then I’ll go too. I mean it would be easier, to help identify the ruin and make sure we are going the right way, right?” Maybe once they got to the ruin Solas could figure out a way to get her home, the thought brought a hopeful edge to her voice.

“Cynthia, you are a stranger to Thedas and despite your adventures you have been remarkably sheltered. You also have yet to gain proper control of your magic.” Solas chided her, as if she was a child. She wasn’t sure how much older than her he was but she had learned that the elves had lost their immortality in Thedas, and judging from his face he couldn’t be too much older than Dorian. Ergo there was no need for him to talk down to her.

“Solas, I can’t allow you to risk your life look for a way to get me home, not unless I’m risking my own too.” She defended herself the best she could but she was pretty sure she had to level up her charisma skill.

“It’s very well saying grand words in the comfort of Skyhold but when we are in the wilds, will you be as brave?” His tone changed when he said this, it was gentler, like he simply wanted her to see sense and sense was obviously his point of view.

“I… I don’t know.” She faltered.

“We will await Sirav’s return and gage her opinion on the matter.” He told her, effectively ending the conversation. He turned away, presumably returning to whatever he had been doing before she entered, and Cynthia took that as her cue to leave. After gathering her belongings she walked from the rotunda, now unsure that the breakthrough about the mirrors had been as worthwhile as she had first imagined.

Deciding that she had had enough of social interactions for the day she swiped a little food from the main hall and returned to her room.


	11. That fatal sound

Soon after that night Sirav returned, followed by a procession of beautiful horses and the soldiers rescued from the Fallow Mire. The courtyard became a hive of activity as stable hands rushed out to escort their new charges as well as their new Horse Master Dennet to the stables. Cynthia was awestruck for a time as she watched the animals being lead to their new home, she had always loved animals and felt a connection to them that felt more natural to her than it was to befriend people. Though she had never been allowed a pet growing up, due to her father’s allergies, she had been given horse riding lessons. They had been few and far between, as well as many years ago, but spending that time with horses had made her eleven year old heart sing.

Eventually the horses were out of the way it became clear the healers were gathering to look over the returning troops. As much as Cynthia immediately wanted to corner Sirav and gain permission to return to the ruin that had brought her to Thedas, she knew that she had a duty to the soldiers that had just returned from kidnap. Though they had been given aid on the return journey they still needed to be checked over in the healing tents before they could even think about returning to their duties.

When she entered the healing tent she was directed to a healthy looking soldier that was sat on one of the cots looking rather bored. She gave him a warm smile as she began to check him over, asking about how he felt and if there were any injuries she should know about. He replied amicably answering all her questions before he finally found the opportunity to give her his name, Florian de Guise. Apparently he was Orlesian, though he had a suspiciously French sounding accent, a third son in a wealthy household but had decided to do his duty and help the Inquisition. Cynthia smiled as nodded when she was supposed to and sounded very impressed when he told her of his accomplishments since joining their cause. She wasn’t entirely sure why he was being so chatty with her but she knew she had to be polite as he was her patient.

She healed his scrapes and soothed his bruises, it would seem the healers had given the novice an easy duty with this soldier, before informing him that he was healthy enough to return to his duties in the morning and prescribed him a hot meal and good night’s rest. The Orlesian jumped to his feet with a smile and asked if she wished to join him for his meal. Cynthia smiled kindly and told him that she had other arrangements for the evening and wouldn’t be eating until later, completely oblivious to the way his gaze lingered over her. With a polite smile and slight bow he left the tent, allowing Cynthia time to assist one of the other healers whose patient was not so healthy as hers.

Once all of the soldiers had been seen to Cynthia gathered her things and was about to go in search of the Inquisitor, only to find that the dwarf in question was sat waiting outside of the tent, seemingly waiting for the otherworlder to finish her work. As Cynthia got closer to the rogue she noticed that she had been perched upon a pile of lumber, she wore a wry smile but upon closer inspection the young mage could see the fatigue in her eyes and the tired slump in her posture. Wordlessly the Inquisitor stood from her position and began to make her way up the stairs that lead into the main hall of Skyhold, pausing only to ensure that Cynthia was following after.

Eventually the pair made their way to the private quarters that Sirav had been granted upon gaining the title of Inquisitor. Clearly the job had its perks. The room was spacious with fine décor and a beautiful view of the mountains, compared to her own chambers it made her feel a little like she lived in a broom cupboard but she resolved that she wouldn’t want to give up her room, even for one as lavish as this.

They sat together on a plush couch, which Sirav sank into with a contented sigh, a moment of silence passed each awaiting the other to begin.

“I spoke to Solas.” Sirav began, cutting straight to the issue that they wished to discuss.

“Oh?” The young mage was a little unsure what Solas had said to Sirav as he had been against her joining the excursion. She hoped he had not already persuaded the Inquisitor to his opinion on the matter.

“He said that you want to go with him to place that brought you here.” The red headed dwarf eyed Cynthia carefully from her relaxed position on the couch.

“More or less.” She replied cautiously.

“It’s quite a ways, or so Solas tells me, are you sure you want to go?” The rogue asked with concern radiating from her tone. A familiar simmering began in her belly, how did these people expect her to grow or improve if they never gave her the opportunity? “Don’t look at me like that. You are an untrained mage, untested in the field of battle and a dangerous commodity should the wrong people hear of your existence.”

“I know but… I can’t stay cowering in Skyhold for the rest of my life and I refuse to allow others to risk their lives if I don’t risk mine.” Her tone was resolute, determined, as she locked eyes with the most important person in the entire fortress.

“If something were to happen it wouldn’t only be your life at risk.” Sirav reminded Cynthia, they both knew what had happed once Corypheus got his claws into her. They couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Please… I need to do this.” The mage’s voice trailed slightly, she didn’t want to be useless and a burden to the Inquisition. She wanted to carry her own weight, especially when it came to this regarding her returning to Earth.

“Alright, but you will do everything I say without question.” The dwarf conceded with a wry smile, had she decided to allow Cynthia to go before they spoke or had the LARPer managed to persuade her? She was unsure but pleased that she had managed to get her way.

“Yes ma’am.”  Cynthia jumped up from the couch, giving the red head a lazy salute before scurrying out of the lavish chambers. It’s not like she wanted to give the rogue a chance to change her mind.

* * *

As Cynthia moved through the main hall to return to her room she noticed her mage friend Ella walking towards her with a smile. The otherworlder felt a little bad that she had hardly spent any time with one of her first Thedosian friends. Though their first meeting had been tense they had grown to be quite close in Redcliffe and after what happened to Torrin and Finn, Ella was the only one left from the trio of mages.

The pair eventually made their way to the tavern for their evening meal, giving the friends time to talk and catch up on what they had missed.

“I was a little worried when you stopped coming back to the tower on an evening, at first I thought you had taken a lover but…” The dark haired mage confessed before she was interrupted by her friend chocking on her drink.

“Woah there Ella, I don’t have a boyfriend!” Cynthia managed after getting her breathing right. “I just upgraded my room.”

“You were granted new quarters? Why?”  Ella, as a mage that had grown up in the Kirkwall Circle, had a natural inclination towards suspicion and after Cynthia learned what life was like in Kirkwall, she didn’t blame her friend.

“Well, I stumbled on this library a few days after we got to Skyhold…” She decided it was the best to start from the beginning and just explain what she could to Ella. Cynthia’s relatively open nature and explanation soon dissuaded her friend that anything nefarious was going on.

“You have always had your nose stuck in a book.” Ella acknowledged “But I wonder why they let an apostate like yourself such freedom. I mean, you are still mostly untrained, it makes sense for them to keep us together.”

“I’m not entirely sure on the why but I know they are keeping a close eye on me. They said as much when they let me have the room. It may have made me a little paranoid.” The LARPer raked her hand through her hair. “There’s this hole, more like a crack, in my ceiling and when I sleep I keep thinking Leliana has one of her spies stuffed in it.” The girls laughed a little nervously, aware that the Nightingale’s spies were everywhere and even if they were allies to the Inquisition they were still under scrutiny.

There was a long awkward pause after the fading of that line of conversation, only broken by the arrival of their meal. They were quiet for a few moments longer as they began to eat before Ella finally spoke again. “So, no one caught your fancy then?”

Cynthia’s gaze momentarily flicked to the sudden appearance of a large brimmed hat at the other side of the tavern before she refocused on Ella. “No, but I have a feeling someone has caught yours.” A wicked grin spread across her face, dimpling her cheeks, as her friend began to blush. Right on the money. “So does this mystery person have a name?”

“I, er… yes. He’s a mage but I don’t know if you would approve of him.” Ella was flustered, stumbling over her words in a way Cynthia had never seen before. She had always been so boisterous and straightforward.

“Why do you think I wouldn’t approve?” The brunette asked as she tilted her head in confusion. What could be so bad about this mage? “Is it Solas? Are you into chrome domes? ‘Cuz I have no problem with the follicly challenged.” She teased, trying to make her friend relax enough to spill the beans.

“What?” The ex-circle mage mirrored Cynthia’s once confused face before she realised what her friend was implying. “No! No, not Solas you idiot.” She scolded before she crossed her arms in indignation. “I will not tell you while you make fun of me.” There was the temper Cynthia was used to.

“Sorry Ella, look I promise no matter who it is I will not make fun of you.” She said solemnly holding up her hand in the ‘scout’s honour’ gesture. Though the gesture was lost on her friend she appeared to gage the meaning of it.

“Good.” Ella paused again, nervousness clear on her face. “It’s, well, it’s Dorian. From the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle.”

“DORIAN!!” Cynthia screeched before her mouth was quickly covered by the golden brown hands of her mortified friend. Before Ella could even remove her hands Cynthia burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles, causing Ella to withdraw and haughtily cross her arms.

“You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me. It’s not even that funny.” The mage frowned in clear disapproval of her friend’s reaction to the revelation.

It took longer than expected for Cynthia to calm her giggle fit so she could actually speak. “Have you ever actually spoken to the man?” She queried as she tried really hard not to relapse into laughter.

“Only a little.” The tinge of pink under her bronze skin gave Ella an expression Cynthia had never seen on her friend before. “He was charming, confident and sophisticated. Yes, he is a Tevinter mage but he wouldn’t be so close to the Inquisitor if he were a bad person, right?” Definitely a school girl’s crush.

“Ella, I don’t think he is a bad guy…” The otherworlder soothed as she tried to make her friend understand. She had gathered that life in a circle was sheltered but surely she understood sexual orientation. “I’m pretty sure he bats for the other team.” Though now that she thought about it Ella probably wouldn’t understand any euphemism she used. “Prefers the company of men?”

“W-why would you say that!” Ella looked completely thrown by the idea the flamboyant mage could be gay.

Cynthia sighed to herself as she quietly tried to explain her reasoning to Ella. This had not been how she had wanted this meal to go. She wanted to sit back and have a pleasant catch up with her friend. Instead they talked about being spied on and how unavailable Ella’s first real crush was. Cynthia felt like a crappy friend but she didn’t want Ella to get hurt. Though, as she continued to explain to Ella she became more aware that she may have be stereotyping him based on the preconceptions of her world. Despite their close friendship Ella had no idea of Cynthia’s true origin and because of this it would be difficult for her to explain why, in hindsight, she may have misinterpreted.

“Honestly Ella, if you feel so strongly about this I won’t stop you from pursuing it but keep what I said in mind.” She finished, her hand placed gently atop her friend’s to convey the sincerity of her words.

“Alright, I appreciate you wanting to help.” The mage smiled but her tone made it clear that that conversation was definitely at an end. “Is there anything else I should know?” She teased in an attempt to lighten the odd mood that their conversations had put them in.

“I’m leaving Skyhold”                                                                                                                                        

* * *

Three days later, as the party made its way towards the Hinterlands, Cynthia was reflecting upon the conversation she had had with her friend and thought she should probably have not phased it like that. She chuckled to herself, recalling the pinched expression her friend had made at the news and then the flurry of questions that followed.

“Well, at least you’re smiling more Dimples.” A deep voice beside her commented, the sudden intrusion into her thought process made her jump slightly before she regained what composure she possessed.

For this particular expedition, as it was a favour to Cynthia and not an official Inquisition mission, attendance had been voluntary. When Sirav had told her this the little mage was a little nervous. Though she knew Solas was curious and Varric was friendly towards her, she had had relatively small interaction with the Inner Circle. They were obviously rather important to gain acceptance into the tight nit group and there would be preciously little benefit for them on this excursion.

Despite her doubts, several of the Inquisitor’s companions had gathered at the stables that morning to prepare for the journey. Sirav and Solas were obviously in attendance, she was pretty sure that Dorian had decided to come along because he was curious about almost anything to do with her world, as far as she could gather Varric and Cole had come for moral support and then there was the Iron Bull. She had no idea why he had decided to come, not that she complained she knew she would be glad of the gigantic meat shield should they get into any trouble, but they had very rarely spoken and knew of no real benefit he would gain by tagging along. Regardless of her doubts Cynthia decided it was best to concentrate of the path ahead of her, she was sure that as time went on she could come to understand the intentions of her companions.

This lead to the next few hours of riding amicably with the Inquisitor’s party and the otherworlder made an interesting discovery when they group stopped to camp for the night. Though she had had horse riding lessons in the past, the past being well over a decade ago, they had been no more than gentle hour long rides down country paths and when she made to dismount she found that the muscles in her backside and legs were not happy about the journey. Clumsily she flailed her arms before flopping off the horse and landing onto the frozen compacted ground below. This caused a bellow of laughter from the qunari as well as a multitude of chuckles that were a little more subtle.

“That was terribly elegant.” Dorian said as he looked like he was trying to stop himself from laughing at her.

“You alright there Dimples?” Varric asked with a wry smile as suddenly Cole was helping her to her feet. “They do have horses in your world right?”

Though she had been initially startled by the sudden appearance on the spirit boy she gave him a grateful smile when she was on her feet. “We do have horses,” She paused as she dusted some of the dust and dirt from her robes “they are just not what most people use to get around.”

“Really? Do tell.” The Tevinter mage asked as he moved closer towards her, his curiosity for her world once again brought forth.

“Well,” She began trying to think of a way to describe cars in a way they would understand “we have machines called Cars. They are kind of like carriages but they don’t have horses, they run on electricity and petrol, way more comfy and move a hell of a lot faster.” As she said this she rubbed the sore muscle of her backside and cast a minor healing spell to sooth the ache.

“Intriguing.” The mage twirled his well groom moustache as he mulled over her words.

“It was a world of boxes. They lived in boxes, travelled in boxes, ate from boxes, worked in boxes, stared at boxes for hours on end and finally buried in boxes.” The familiar words tumbled from foreign lips as Cynthia stared openly at the raggedy rogue.

“’That make any sense to you?” The hulking qunari asked as he finished unloading their equipment from the horses so they could start making camp.

“Y-yes, it was something my mum used to say.” The otherworlder stuttered, she had momentarily forgotten the way the spirit could look into her mind effortlessly, but once the words settled in her mind they brought a flicker of comfort. Something from a home she was trying to return to.

“So… your world is boxes?” Varric asked sceptically, she had told him little things about her world when he had asked but Cynthia had tried to keep the details light and interesting for the author.

“It’s an oversimplification but in a way, yes.” Though it kind of made Earth sound like the Vogon home world she couldn’t deny that the words held to them a ring of truth. Her mother was a little eccentric to say the least, a little bit of a hippy at heart and often talking about how their society had lost something in its pursuit of technology. She would talk about the loss of skill such technology had wrought, such as map reading and navigation in favour of map apps. Most of the time, she had dismissed her mother’s rants, she could not think of a situation where she would be without the use of her phone and apps. Now that she was in Thedas she started to regret not listening more to the skill she had tried to teach her.

“Right then, now that that’s out of the way, anyone going to help me step up camp?” The Iron Bull asked in a deceptively bored tone as he gestured towards the tents.

* * *

After a weeks’ worth of travel the group had made their way out of the frost hardened mountainous terrain and into a snow dusted pine forest. The party had been quiet for a while as the initial novelty of the expedition had slowly dwindled, though the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it did make the journey feel longer.

It was during this subdued quiet that Cynthia had allowed her mind to wander. Despite the initial terror and confusion that came with being dropped into another world, where almost everything was trying to kill you, she found that it did have its peaceful moments. Their sedate pace allowed her to enjoy the scenery, the pine needles became a more vibrant green the further away from the mountain range they got, though the sky was still scarred from the Breach it was a clear and bright blue with little evidence of clouds and the air was fresh no longer holding the bite of frost that had been present the day before. Absently she noted that no matter where she had been in Thedas the air had tasted cleaner than any she could remember on Earth. As this thought crossed her mind she felt a strange static charge rush down her spine.

“I like your horns, The Iron Bull.” The soft voice of Cole broke through the calm atmosphere. Cynthia’s brow furrowed as she started to glance around the party, she wasn’t sure why but for some reason she felt like something was wrong. “But they're dragon horns, not bull horns. You could have named yourself The Iron Dragon.”

“Oh, shit. That would have been better.” The hulking warrior cursed jovially as he clapped Cole on the back, it seemed like he was carefully controlling his strength but the rogue still flopped forward on his mount at the impact.

The otherworlder’s grip tightened on the reigns causing her horse to stop, she had been positioned in the centre of the group so the Iron Bull, Cole and Varric continued forward a few steps ahead before they realised anything had changed.

“Cynthia? Are you alright?” Sirav asked in concern as she halted her mount beside the little mage. Anxiety rolled off the earthling in waves, her eyes darting around the group as if searching for something that was just out of sight.

“I- I don’t know.” She paused, trying to organise her thoughts cohesively. “I can hear music, its dark and wrong but I don’t know where it’s coming from.” At that all her companions stared at her openly, Iron Bull reached for his great sword as he carefully eyed the confused woman.

 “It calls out, harsh and hungry, it wants to consume, corrupt. It wants to devour all of you. All it sees is red.” The group’s attention immediately snapped towards the raggedy rogue only to find the empty space where he once sat atop his horse. Then the horses started to get skittish, sensing the nervousness of their riders, and it became a distraction to sooth the beasts.

A gargled cry erupted from the tree line in the path ahead before suddenly movement and figures burst onto the road. A lithe figure was among them, attacking them, before some broke off to rush at the exposed group.

Immediately the party sprang into action, quickly dismounting and arming themselves for the battle to come. Cynthia was motionless atop her steed. She watched as their attackers came close enough to identify, she recognised the armour from her time wandering the Hinterlands and the few that had donned it within the Inquisition, these men were Templars. But something was wrong about them, she could feel the corruption and decay peeling off of them and reaching towards her. Red crystal jutted from their armour, Red Lyrium, she realised then that it was this substance she could hear. Its song was louder now, more persistent, as the warriors charged towards her group. It was so hungry.

When the fighting started the horses startled causing them to flee in varying directions away from the conflict. Her head was fogged over by the demanding sound of the lyrium, being the only one that had yet to dismount she barely noticed she was being carried away from her companions.

Then she was in the woods, branches scraped against her face, her horse leapt over a fallen tree and in her confused state Cynthia was thrown onto the forest floor. She could still hear the clashing of weapons but the music had dampened slightly as she had moved away from the Templars. She used the firm mooring of a tree to help pull her up so she was stood, her head pounded at the obvious intrusion the corrupted song made into her mind and her arm was hanging limply by her side as waves of pain coursed through her. She was pretty sure it had dislocated.

Her eyes scanned the forest floor in search of the staff that had been flung from the horse when she was. After a few moments she found the familiar stave, it was luckily undamaged from the fall and she quickly grabbed it from the needle covered ground. A moment passed and she realised the sound of fighting had stopped. Relief flooded her system as she made her way back to where the party had been.

The mage had barely taken three steps forward when she felt the intrusive melody assault her mind again, it felt like it was trying to be quiet but was too close to control its need to consume her. Immediately a barrier bubbled around her a split second before metal clanged against it. She span to see her attacker, causing her shoulder to twist painfully, and behind her was a red Templar. His armour was made of dark leathers, duel daggers gripped aggressively in his fists and though there was no lyrium crystal protruding from his form, she could still hear it within him.

He brought his daggers down upon the magically erected shield twice more, causing it to shimmer and weaken. His lips twisted into a grotesque smirk when he slashed once more, the magic failed leaving Cynthia injured and exposed to her enemy. In a blind panic she grasped her staff in her good and tried to use it like a club. However, the rogue was faster than she was and for the second time her weapon clattered to the forest floor.

“Shit.” She cursed before deciding to make a run for the road. Clutching her limp arm tightly she did the only thing she could think of. “Help!” Her scream was shrill and loud and she hoped the right people heard it because if not she was definitely finished.

Before she could scream out again she felt something heavy crash into her, pushing her hard onto the ground and landing with her face full of pine needles. She was harshly turned onto her back and then the weight of the rogue was sat atop her chest. She couldn’t breathe for the weight and couldn’t think for the song, he was too close and the music too loud.

A sharp cold pressed against her throat, she could feel it biting into her skin and the hot stink of his breath as he leaned in close.

“How did you know we was there?” He demanded, rage simmering at the edges of his words. “We didn’t make a sound but you knew, how?” the words ground out, his teeth clacking together loudly as he grimaced.

Then a roar filled the silence. The icy metal was no longer on her skin, the weight on her chest lifted and she took in a grateful breath of air. The song dulled as it got further and further away.

She laid motionless on the ground for what seemed like hours as she slowly regained her breath, with every movement she could feel something warm trickling down her neck. Voices flitted above her, muffled and strange, hands gently prodding causing her to whimper in places.

Darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand I'm back!
> 
> Hope you guys liked the reallllly long chapter. Though I did feel like some of it was filler there are somethings that needed to happen. Please let me know what you think so far, it helps my muse, and I will see you in the next chapter. :3


	12. Ruined

She couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear.

Panic flooded her system before slowly she could hear the muffled sound of voices. It was difficult to understand the words that buzzed around her head. She tried to move but found that warm hands gently held her still before she could move too far. A strange heat bloomed in her shoulder, it was not unpleasant but it was unexpected and she flinched in her darkness. Sound echoed near her head, she thought someone was trying to talk to her, but she was still unable to make out the meaning of the words.

It went on like this for a while, piece by piece drawing herself back to proper consciousness. She blinked slowly as her vision began to clear and sharpen. Slowly she pulled herself up to an upright position, the party appeared to have made camp in a clearing in the pine forest a little ways off of the road. Her hand gently ran across her throat where the rogue had pressed his blade, the skin was slightly tender but the skin had been seamlessly repaired and when she rolled her shoulder she found that the once dislocated joint gave only a minor ache.

Looking out from the tent that had been erected around her cot, she noticed that the campfire burned low and she could only see the back of the Iron Bull. Presumably he was on watch while the others in their group rested. Then the little mage noticed she was not the only on in her tent, sat slumped and looking like she was fighting sleep was Sirav. The dwarven rogue’s eyes drooped but when they hazily landed on Cynthia they snapped open, fully alert.

“You’re awake.” The Inquisitor drawled in her gravelly American-like accent, she sat up straighter on her stood and wiped the sleep from her eyes. “Do you remember what happened?”

Cynthia looked at her blankly, tilting her head slightly to the side as her brow wrinkled in confusion. Remember? She remembered they were going to the ruin that she found when she first came to Thedas. They were only a day or so away. Cole and Iron Bull had been saying something about iron dragons… then the sound.

“Ugh.” The mage grunted as her hands flew to her ears as if to block the memory of the sound. The keen eyed rogue noted that she was visibly paler and a light sheen of sweat coated her skin. “I remember… feeling sick and… there was this music. It sounded… wrong… it was too sharp… too loud… I could hear how hungry it was…” The otherworlder found it difficult to find the words, what she had felt, what she had heard, it was something she had never experienced before.

“You know what lyrium is? The Mages taught you?” Sirav questioned gently, she kept her distance though, not moving from her stool.

“Y-yeah, it’s like some kind of magical mineral that restores magic in mages and… does something for Templars?” She had learned a little about lyrium in Redcliffe and Skyhold, though she had never been allowed to take it. They had told her it was because she hadn’t been through her Harrowing and she needed to build her inner magical capabilities before using lyrium to enhance it. Though with what Sirav had told her about the alternate future she had assumed that Sirav had also had a hand in her being banned from the substance.  “I’ve never used it.”

“I know.” The red head intoned as her eyes never seemed to fully meet Cynthia’s. From the corner of her eye Cynthia noticed a shape at the entrance to the tent, she hadn’t heard his approach but in the opening stood Varric. He looked tired and worried, usually he hid it with humour and distracting tales but his expression was so open as he stared at the Earthling.

“You could hear the music?” He asked slowly, there was wariness in his posture that she had never seen before and it stung that he looked at her suspiciously. “That ambush had to be half a mile away and she could hear it. Inquisitor… Sirav, you know what happened to _him_ , the stuff drove him insane and he spent months locked in a room with it.” Then the roguish storyteller turned to her directly. “Did any of it touch you?” She had never seen him look so serious.

“N-no.” She fumbled at his intensity.

“Solas and Cole checked her over, they would have been able to tell if there was any residual effect.” Sirav assured him, though her tone did leave room to doubt. She heaved a heavy tried sigh as she rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand. “Go on Varric, get some rest, we still have a couple of days before we get to the ruin.”

“What! After what happened you want to keep going?!” He questioned, clearly exasperated by her decision. “Deeper into Red Templar territory, Sirav, what are you thinking?”

“I am thinking, Varric, that that ruin might have some answers. Maybe we can send her home, away from Corypheus and what he could do to her… what she could do to our world.” The Inquisitor’s voice was harsh as she snapped at the author before she seemed to realise how short she had been. “I’m sorry. It’s just better we know now whether we can send her home, or if we need to make more permanent decisions.”

His shoulders slumped as her words seem to sink in before he took one final look at Cynthia and Sirav then he retired to his tent.

“Sirav…” Cynthia started before the Inquisitor held up her hand.

“Just… get some rest.” And with that the rogue silently made her way to the campfire where she sat next to Iron Bull.

* * *

The next few days of travel were strangely uneventful. Cynthia was quiet and kept to herself, she could feel the way the others looked at her, the curiosity, the fear, the mistrust. She had spent a little over a month in the company of the Inquisition, thought that in that time she had gained their friendship but after the Red Templar ambush she felt like it had all relapsed to zero. She was strange, foreign, not of their world and none of them knew the full ramifications of that. So they carried on, quietly, in hopes that when they reached this ruin they would find a way to return her home.

Where she could be a danger to nothing and no one.

It was approaching midday when they finally reached the dilapidated ruin. The rogues made a sweep of the ruin while the rest of the group decided to quickly set up their camp a little ways away from the crumbling structure, halfway through the set up Sirav, Cole and Varric returned to confirm the area was clear for the time being. When their camp was set Sirav and Iron Bull went out into the surrounding forest area to hunt some fresh meat for their evening meal. The Inquisitor told them to have a look around the ruin cautiously; she didn’t want to return to find they had set off a trap that left them as smears on the floor. She had laughed at this as she disappeared into the forest with the qunari but Cynthia wasn’t sure what was funny about them dying in a trap.

Eventually the LARPer found herself in a familiar open space in the old structure. The large uncovered ceiling gave a perfect view of where the Breach had once been. She stood staring out at the scarred sky and thought about her first few moments in Thedas. She had been so confused and scared and angry. Cynthia knew now that the voice that had been inside her head had been a demon pressing against the veil and wanting to possess her. The little mage had deemed it best not to mention her altercation with the corrupted spirit, their faith in her had already been shaken and she didn’t want to completely destroy what trust was left.

Slowly she walked to over to where Solas was crouched beside the shattered Eluvian, he appeared to be inspecting the broken glass.

“Do you think we can fix it?” She asked as she crouched beside him and gently picked up a sliver of mirror. Solas didn’t startle at her question, despite her mostly silent approach, and continued to inspect the fragments impassively.

“It is possible, though such a thing would require ancient magics and tools that I have no access to.” The hedge mage had this look in his eyes, he mourned the loss of knowledge of his people and his seeing of an artefact that once represented the epitome of his people’s strength seemed to bring an inflection of sadness to him. Though quickly enough the look was gone and his expression was once again passive.

“You would happen to need an Arulin'Holm would you?” Cynthia had not noticed the dwarf leaning on a relatively strong looking pillar, his arms crossed and his face hidden as the slowly sinking sun cast shadows all around the ruin.

“That would be a useful tool, though I am surprised that you know of it Varric.” Solas stood with an agile grace as he turned to face Varric fully, Cynthia cursed herself and her locked knees when she attempted to rise as fluidly and failed. It took her a few moments but eventually she managed to pull herself up, her knees cracked at the movement and luckily her less than graceful motions seemed to go unnoticed.

“If you don't get some sunshine you wilt. She says she's not a plant, she's fine, but falling, faltering, foolish. Blood on her hands. People and demons always end in trouble. Too many daisies in this garden.” Cole appeared, as he sometimes did, from seemingly nowhere and stood between Varric and Cynthia. As soon as the words left the raggedy rogues mouth she could see that the storyteller deflated massively.

“I… nevermind…” He almost mumbled into silence before he slowly walked away from the group towards the camp. Cynthia knew there had to be a story to his reaction but would never ask Varric to tell it, it seemed to be too painful to him and she regarded him too highly to dredge up such pain.

“I did it wrong.” Panic fluttered through his voice as he moved as if to pursue his friend before he flinched when he felt a hand placed gently on his shoulder.

“Cole, you tried and that’s good but sometimes people need to help themselves.” The LARPer tried her best to give him a reassuring smile as she quickly removed her hand, she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “Before they let anyone else help.” The spirit turned and his passive gaze seemed to phase straight through her before in the blink of an eye he was gone, leaving Cynthia and Solas alone in the expansive skeleton of a once great structure.

“In any case, we should see the circumstances of your arrival before any true decisions are made. I will camp within the ruin tonight and walk the fade for answers. I would ask you not look for me in the fade, your presence may effect what I experience and make finding answers difficult.” His passive façade set firmly in place as if the rift mage had seen nothing that had transpired in the proceeding moments.

“Alright, I’ll just… I’ll find something useful to do…” The earth girl deflated slightly at the prospect that she was once again a hindrance even in finding her own way home. She raked her hand through her brunette locks as she sighed and turned to return to the camp to see if she could help at all. With anything.

“Cynthia.”

“Yes?”

“Do not take their hesitance personally, your connection to Lyrium is unprecedented and it has made them cautious. They wish to protect not persecute.” She glanced over her shoulder to find that Solas was once again hunched over the broken shards, his back towards her, his slender pale fingers gently grazing over the dulled glass.

“It’s funny how easily those words interchange.” Cynthia all but whispered before she quietly left the confines of the ruin. She did not see the stillness that had overtaken the elf nor did she see him glance towards her retreating form.

By the time Cynthia entered the camp she saw that Sirav and Bull had returned with a fat looking ram. Luckily it seemed that the pair had gutted and skinned the creature while they were in the forest, the young mage wasn’t sure how she would handle watching them gut the poor animal. Quietly she sat down by the fire that chased away the lingering chill on her skin and tried her best not to get in the way of anyone else.

Never before had she felt as useless as she did when she came to Thedas. Back home she had been taking charge of her life, training to become a teacher, beginning to be recognised as an adult in her family, she had even started to look into finding a place of her own once her course was done. She had everything planned out, the stable job, the flat, everything was coming together and she had even started to look far enough ahead to see herself as a parent in the years to come. But here, in Thedas, she was a stumbling child, no control over her magic, no means of her own, and to top it off she had the potential to become a devastating weapon if Corypheus ever got a hold of her. Hell, even her LARP character was more together than she was in Thedas.

In the end Cynthia silently slunk off to her tent to sleep, at least she could do no damage in the fade, and clung to the hope that somehow Solas would find a way for her to return home.


	13. No place like home

“And we’re sure this is going to work?” Cynthia questioned as she started up the familiar courtyard stairs, accompanied by her favorite Thedosian author, towards the imposing main hall. 

“Chuckles does seem pretty confident.” Varric shrugged, the dwarf knew little of magic and what he did know scared the ever loving crap out of him. Despite this he always managed to convey an heir of calm and humour that always relaxed the young mage during times of anxiety. 

“I know it’s just, after all these months of research, hunting for the right tools and materials, I can’t believe I’m finally going home.” She sighed as she raked a hand through her brunette tresses, it appeared to be a nervous habit of hers and she was surprised she had any hair left with the amount of times her hand scraped across her scalp and tugged at the locks. For all the insecurities she harboured and uncertainty she felt about Thedas it had been a wonderful place, having spent a little over a year in the strange world she had come to love and respect the people she had met. 

“Well, what can I say, the Inquisitor has a thing for helping strays.” The incorrigible dwarf grinned, he seemed to attract great heroes that had a penchant for helping every lost soul they came across.

“Trans-Dimensional strays? Hey, that could be a title for your next book!” The little mage teased, knowing that the rogue had been taking notes on what she told him of her world.

“Honestly Dimples, I don’t understand half the crap that comes out your mouth, anything I write would be worse than ‘Swords and Shields’.” He chuckled as they reached the apex of the steps that lead into the main hall. The pair continued amiably into the Rotunda where they saw a familiar figure waiting for them beside a large plain ordinary looking mirror.

“Ah, there you are, I was beginning to think you might wish to remain in our world.” The hedge mage’s lilting voice drifted over them with a warmth that for some reason didn’t strike her as odd. 

“Thedas has its perks but I miss pizza and proper sanitary products.” Cynthia smiled as she spoke, her tone gleaming with a happiness that comes with returning home. 

“Very well, stand here and face into the mirror.” With very little pause for pleasantries Solas placed his hands gently on her shoulders, barely touching, and guided her to stand directly in front of the mirror at the centre of the room. 

“Solas, are you sure you did this right? I don’t think this is the Eluvian that I came through.” As she stood before the reflective surface the LARPer began to notice flickering at the edges of her vision.

“The portal is of no consequence. Now, stand up straight, click your heels together and think of home.” 

“What?”  

“The power to return was always within you.”

“Aaaaand this is the Fade.”

* * *

Consciousness slowly came to Cynthia that morning, her sleep had not been particularly restful and she could not recall what she had dreamt if anything at all. Despite the vague warmth of her bedroll she could still feel the morning chill seep into her bones, making the decision to get up a simple one. When she was fully dressed she made her way from her dew dusted tent to find the camp fire burned low and only one other person seemingly awake. 

It seemed that Cole had been given the early morning time slot for keeping watch over the camp, he hadn’t seemed to have noticed her presence and the raggedy rogue stared solemnly into the last light of the crackling embers. 

“Pay no attention to the one behind the curtain, pulling the strings. You know the face but not the name.” The words drifted out from beneath his droopy hat as Cynthia sat beside him. Her head tilted slightly in equal parts vague recognition and an attempt to see the spirit’s face. His eyes shifted and connected with hers.

“Was that a ‘Wizard of OZ’ reference? How do you even know what that is?” She smiled as his brow creased in thought, he looked like he was trying to piece the words together, it was quite adorable. 

“Your connection to the Fade, new, bright, brilliant, buzzing, echoes from your world that live in your mind. I hear them easier when you sleep, the Fade makes them louder, when you’re awake you’re too loud to hear them.” He had an innocence in his eyes that made his words seem all the more earnest. She knew she should be affronted at the invasion of her mind, she should be horrified that he would sneak around in her dreams but when he finished speaking she breathed a tired sigh.

“Between you and Solas I really can’t even have privacy in my dreams.” Thedas was full of magic and demons and psychic spirit boys and dreamwalking hobo mages. She really couldn’t find it in her to be truly annoyed at Cole but the revelation of further invasion into her innermost thoughts made her hope that Solas had found something to get her home. 

“You miss your world, you make jokes in your head but don’t say them because no one will understand. What should make you laugh makes you sad. I thought if I looked and understood you would tell your jokes. Should I stop?” The tattered blonde explained himself, easing the creeped out feeling Cynthia had started to feel and replacing it with a sense of understanding what he was trying to do for her. 

“Cole… that’s actually really sweet of you.” A small smile edged her lips as she considered Cole’s intentions, it occurred to her then that Cole was in a somewhat similar position to her. Being in a world that was not altogether familiar to them and stumbling their way through understanding the people and world around them. “You know what, it’s fine, it’s not like Solas doesn’t already snoop.”

“You may not mind Dimples but Kid we should talk about people’s privacy… again.” The sound of Varric’s smooth deep voice had Cynthia jerking away from her previous position looking beneath Cole’s hat and immediately she found herself spinning to her feet to see that the rest of the party getting up. 

Sirav chuckled as she looked at the surprised on the Otherworlders face. “Come on, let’s get packed up and see what Solas found out.” 

* * *

Soon enough the party returned to the ruin that they had left Solas in the night before. The sun was just cresting over the mountain range, allowing filtered light to fall gently on the old stone walls. As the group drew closer a gentle breeze blew past them, the remnants of tattered tapestries rippled as the air shifted and the scattered tufts of grass swayed around them. Solas stood in front of the eluvian, his posture ramrod straight and his hands losely held behind his back. Cynthia wondered how long he had been awake, his camp looked long since cleared away. 

“Morning,” Sirav greeted causing the mage to slowly turn to face them. “I hope you have some good news for us.” The redheaded dwarf smiled hopefully as she drew closer to her companion. 

“I have news, how you interpret it is up to you.” The rift mage intoned, his face impassive and giving no clue as to what he had discovered. The gang seemed to shift uncomfortably, each comprehending Solas’ words in their own way, most appeared to take his words as a bad sign but Cynthia attempted to remain optimistic. 

“Well, are you going to tell us or do we have to guess?” Dorian asked, his fluid movements exaggerating his words for him. 

“Of course,” Solas spoke a little curtly to the effervescent mage before he turned to look directly at Cynthia. “As you know last night I walked the Fade and I looked into the memories of this place, it is old and events long since passed remain here. Like flowers pressed between the pages of a book. It did not take me long to find the correct page as the events of that night certainly left their mark on this place.  I found myself stood where you are now, everything silent as if a breath was being held before the sudden explosion of everything. I saw through the open roof the sundering of the sky and in that moment the mirror was brought to life. I saw you stood in your word, curiosity and wonder plain on your face before you were pulled through by the unstable magics the Breach unleashed. In the moment it took you to cross over the magics that stretched to your world strained the eluvian, once it may have been capable of channeling such power but after centuries of neglect and decay it could only buckle under the raw power of the Fade.” 

After this infodump of exposition that Solas provided there seemed to be little reaction to his words for sometime. Then after some time to digest what he had told them the cogs in their minds began to turn, most seemed to have varying degrees of understanding of what his words implied. Cynthia stood silently allowing his words to filter into her mind, she understood the words but hoped that they did not mean what she feared they meant.

“Alright Solas,” Sirav finally spoke, causing her companions to look to her “Are you saying we need a lot of power to get her home or…” Her words trailed off slightly as her gaze flicked towards the young mage before returning to Solas. 

“In the simplest of terms Inquisitor,” He spoke slowly, deliberately, as if not wanting to upset a child with harsh news. “It took the raw power of the Breach to open the path to Cynthia’s word and not simply the Breach being open but the very moment the Breach was created. The height of its destructive power would be required as well as a working eluvian. I am afraid Inquisitor if you wished to return Cynthia to her world you would risk the true sundering of the already fragile Veil.” 

Sirav nodded in understanding of the situation before she turned her full attention to Cynthia, but before she could say a word the little mage spoke. 

“Inquisitor… it’s ok. I’m not selfish enough to ask you to destroy your world just so I can go back to mine. Though I do hope I can stay with the Inquisition, you know until you kick Corypheus’ arse and I can be less of a tool in his evil plans.” She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully as she forced a smile on her face. Desperately she buried the disappointment and homesickness and pain as deeply as she could. She didn’t want to have to face this now, she would wait until later, for the moment she just wanted to start moving forward. 

Cole moved as if to say something but Varric took his arm gently before speaking in a low tone to the spirit. Had she been paying more attention Cynthia would probably have heard what they were saying, instead she made her way to her horse pulled herself into the saddle and started back the way they had come. Towards Skyhold. Quickly she was joined by the rest of her traveling companions and as she glanced a them with a tight smile she kep repeating to herself, it could be worse. So much worse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that has commented or left kudos on this story, it really does help motivate me to write more chapters and I am always happy to hear what you guys think. I try to post whenever I can but I do want sense and at least some quality to my chapters :) 
> 
> Thanks for your patience and I will see you guys in the next chaper.


	14. The little things

The return journey to Skyhold passed in the blink of an eye and without major incident. The quiet set most of the party on edge but Cynthia was barely aware of anything. She rarely responded in more than monosyllabic grunts when spoken to. It didn’t take Iron Bull’s keen eye to see that the LARPer had started to fold in on herself. When she did eventually respond to their concern she asked them for space and some time to accept her situation.

It had been two weeks since they had discovered that sending Cynthia back to her world would be impossible. Good to their word Cynthia was left to her own devices so that she could start to come to terms with her new reality. However, as time dragged on the Otherworlder seemed to spend more time alone, receding deeper within herself and those she had come to befriend were growing more concerned for her.

Eventually it was Ella that decided enough was enough. Having to watch Cynthia disappear from the dining hall without a word night after night had grated on her patience. This time the stubborn mage followed after her friend down the dark narrow stairs that eventually lead to her quarters. Deciding to forgo all pleasantries Ella burst straight into Cynthia’s room, much to the surprise of the little mage, without a word Ella grabbed onto the confused girl’s arm and lead her from the room.

It wasn’t until they were seated inside the tavern with frothing mugs in front of them that Cynthia had the comprehension to speak.

“Ella? Why are we-” But before she could finish she was interrupted by the sharp voice of her friend.

“Look, I don’t know what happened when you left, but enough is enough. I am not going to let you stew in your room any longer. Now, you don’t have to do anything, just sit with me a while and enjoy my company.” The Kirkwaller informed, the look in her eyes leaving no room for argument.

 “I don-”

 “Shhhhh, less talking more drinking.” 

Though Ella was clearly resolved in her plan Cynthia could see that her friend was concerned for her, and it was nice to be with her friend again. Knowing that there was no pressure on her to join in set her more at ease. But, a dark weight still pressed down upon her reminding her that something was wrong.

Passively she watched the buzzing activity of the tavern.

Sirav was with the Iron Bull and his Chargers, apparently in the middle of a drinking contest. The dwarf could certainly hold her own. She also noted that Sera was slumped down by the Inquisitor, maybe she had tried to compete but Cynthia was unsure.

Dorian was sat in a quiet corner slowly sipping from a crystal wine glass, he seemed to be smiling to himself as he watched the drinking contest but she didn’t know him well enough to guess why.

Varric was sat at a crowded table, spinning stories to roarus laughter and spilled drinks. Then she watched as Cole appeared and placed something beside the hand of a demure looking elf, possibly one of the kitchen staff, before he disappeared again. The young mage couldn’t see what it had been but when the young woman’s hand knocked into it her eyes lit up and she looked to be smiling, almost in relief.

This was the world she would have to spend the rest of her life in. It was by no means a bad place, in fact if someone back home had asked her she would have immediately chosen Thedas. Who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t want to live in a world with magic and elves and dragons. On the other hand this world also comes with a one way ticket and demons and darkspawn magisters obsessed with world domination.

Her eyes stared blankly into the untouched amber liquid in her tankard. Never again would she see her family and friends. This thought alone brought her great pain. But her mind also conjured silly little concerns that spoke volumes of the life she had lead before coming to Thedas.

She would never know who won the Great British Bake Off. She would never see the end of Game of Thrones. She would never find out what the stupid amulet would have meant for her LARP character or if Lyon would ever slay a foam dragon. She would never see if her indecisive mother chose to paint the living room duckegg blue or lavender purple.

She felt her shoulders quiver and watched as something dripped into her drink. It was then that she realised she had started to cry. A familiar gentle arm wrapped around her shoulder and even though Ella had no idea why Cynthia was so upset, she was still there to comfort her friend. There was no noise as the Earthling trembled, tears flowing down her cheeks. The pair remained like this for a few minutes, Cynthia tucked into Ella’s shoulder while the ex circle mage patiently rubbed her friend’s arm soothingly, until finally the Otherworlder stopped shaking.

She hadn’t quite managed to stop the flow of her tears yet, but she gave her friend a grateful smile.

“Thanks Ella, for this, but I think I’m gonna head off. I feel like I’m bringing the whole tavern down, you stay and have fun for the both of us yeah?” Her voice came out scratchy and weak before she attempted to normalise the sound.

Though reluctant Ella agreed on the promise that they would meet for breakfast and spend sometime together. It was clear that she was worried, making the choice to accept simple, but Cynthia knew her friend craved answers. Answers she was unsure she could give.

* * *

When she stepped out of the tavern she took a deep calming breath. The jovial atmosphere inside had been stifling. A stab of guilt sliced through her as she thought of how uncomfortable she had become with her own friends. At how she was pushing them away. Her steps quickened as if trying to escape her own thoughts. But when she reached the stairs that would lead her down towards her dark chambers the confined quiet walls seemed all too daunting. At the last moment she instead found herself drawn to the door that lead out into the garden courtyard and slipped into the quiet area.

It had been hours since the sun had set, the garden was shadowed but the quiet didn’t seem to be as deafening here. A mountain breeze brushed passed her, a chill touch on her skin, as she slowly moved further within.

Silently she perched onto the smooth wooden bench before relaxing into the peaceful atmosphere that surrounded her. After taking some time to breathe in the crisp mountain air she let her eyes sweep over the plants that grew around her. It had often amazed her that such a variety of herbs and flowers managed to thrive in the mountain fortress.

Slowly she stood from her seat and began to meander around the garden, the small oil lanterns offering pale light to guide her. As she walked around she realised that she didn’t recognise any of the plants. Of course since arriving in Thedas she had been taught about the local flora and fauna to make potions and poultices but there were none from Earth. It might have been a silly notion but she expected to see some lavender or thyme or something, but Thedas had plantlife all its own. Her eyes fell upon a thickly growing patch of elfroot nestled in the herb garden rigorously maintained by the healers. She had even spent some time tending to the healing herbs, but in that moment she found that foreign yet familiar plant made her miss home desperately.

The girl slumped to her knees before the herbs, a familiar ache hollowed out her chest as she felt tears resurfacing and flooding her eyes. Time seemed to twist, stretch, constrict and spin as her thoughts became unfocused in her mourning. She mourned for her family, her friends, her home and herself. She could no longer think of this as some wayward adventure or vivid fantasy.

This was her life.

Forever.

The soft sound of footfalls on grass slowly brought her back from the depths of her turbulent thoughts, allowing her a brief respite for air. Eyes shifting, she glanced up to see a familiar figure stood beside her silently. He looked to be appraising her but there was a softness to his eyes.

Cynthia had no idea why Dorian was stood there and couldn’t yet bring herself to move from her crumpled position on the ground. They stayed like that for a time before finally the Tevinter spoke.

“Nice here, in the quiet. With such stunning good looks and charm it can be difficult to find peace in this place and it can be so tiresome.” He didn’t seem to be talking to her, it almost seemed as if he were looking off to some far off place and she simply sat beside the best view. “The quiet helps me to think more clearly, especially when I’m homesick.” She looked up at him then to see a wry smile beneath his perfectly styled moustache. “I know you can’t think too well of my country, between what the rebel mages must have told you and your first hand experience with Alexius… We are not all the monsters from the Chantry tales.”

He went on to talk about Tevinter, that despite how broken it was he still loved his country and hoped to one day bring real, lasting, positive change. That he could only imagine how awful the prospect of never returning really was. He paused then, offering a hand to Cynthia. She looked from his hand to his face and back again, before cautiously she accepted his help. Gently but firmly he helped her to her feet. The little mage had no idea why he was telling her all this. Dorian had always appeared to be a man that enjoyed the sound of his own voice, thought that might be part of it she could also sense the loneliness in his words. Though their situations were different they could empathise with one another, perhaps that was why he had decided to speak with her.

The altus took a long look at her, assessing her, before he spoke again.

“ You didn’t choose this life and it will be difficult, but I have no doubt you can thrive here. You are stronger than you think you are, no arguments, I can see the power in you. Not just your magic.” Her brows knitted together in confusion then.  “Ah, there it is. You don’t see it do you?”

“I’m not strong, I’m nothing but a coward and a hindrance. Ever since coming to Thedas I have become nothing but a danger to everything and everyone around me. Remember you told me about the future I helped to screw up.” It had been the most she had spoken in weeks, the flicker or of frustration and helplessness barrelled around the hollow in her chest.

“Do you honestly think Sirav would have taken such a risk to Thedas without reason? Invited you into the Inquisition if she didn’t believe you could do some good?”

“Or prevent me from being used as a puppet for bad?” She snapped back automatically, thoughts of all the different ways she could be used to destroy Thedas never far from her mind.

“Granted, at first that may have been a strong motive, but think about how much you have achieved in the time you have spent in an entirely different world.”

“Achieved? If you think-”

“Now, now, you are bias so hush.” He told her matter-of-factly as he ushered her onto the cool wooden bench with a view of the whole garden.

“From what you have told us, and from what Solas has managed to glean, your world is almost wholly without magic, monsters, demons and the like. One that is so advanced and serene that your people play at war and pretend to live in worlds like ours for excitement.” With this assessment Cynthia shifted in her seat, clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going.

“Then suddenly -whoops!- you are thrown into Thedas, a world that is so far removed from your own it's a miracle you survived as long as you did. But then, that is the point, you survived and not only that. You found allies, that you had the power to defend yourself and then, as soon as the opportunity arose you began to look for your own way home. Do you know how often Sirav can just leave people to fix their own problems? Oh, let us not forget that you also spent the rest of your waking hours learning how to use your power to help the Inquisition. This all happening in, what, two- two and a half months since falling through that eluvian?” He pause for a moment, the clearly stunned look on her face brought satisfaction to his.

“The little things do add up.”

“Well… I guess I never really-” There was clear contemplation on the Earthling’s face as she mulled over the points that Dorian had made before she was once again interrupted.

“Had your merits explained to you by someone as delectable as me?” He seemed to be enjoying this interaction far too much, but as it went on she found that his enthusiasm was contagious.

“You could say that.” The beginnings of a coy smile emerged allowing small dimples in her cheeks.

“There are the dimples we know and admire.”

“Thanks Dorian… you’re alright, no matter what they say.” Cynthia didn’t know what it was about the Tevinter mage but her seemed to lift her spirits with very little effort on his part. So much so, in fact, that she found some of the humor she had lost over the past fortnight.

“Your welc- what do they say about me? Is it scandalous?”

“Just a joke from my world.”

“Maybe I over did it with the self-confidence, now you think you’re funny.”

“And you think you’re- you know what, I’m going to stop or we’ll end up quipping til the sun comes up.”

“Very well, until next time.” The effervescent man declared as he performed an over the top bow before sashaying from the garden. She could certainly see why Ella had become enamoured with the mage.

Slowly, gingerly, her fingers reached up to the ghostly smile on her lips. A smile with a promise of hope. Hope that she could do this.

Her gaze returned to the elfroot, only minutes ago the plant had been nothing but a reminder of how different Thedas was. But different wasn’t bad. Thedas wasn’t Earth but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be home. Her smile brightened a little.

* * *

It was pitch black when she returned to her chamber, causing her to light a flicker of viel fire in her palm so she could find her way to bed. When she got there she noticed something on her pillow. As she slowly drew closer she came to see that it was in fact, a flower.

A Daisy.

Gently she picked up the slightly battered wilting bloom, a serene smile dimpling her cheeks. Simple, common, beautiful and it looked like it have been plucked straight from Earth.

Quickly she cast a preservation charm on the flower, the very same that she had learned to protect the pages from the ancient tome on her desk. With almost reverence she placed the now enchanted bloom on her desk before she crawled into bed. She didn’t know why, who or how, but the simple gesture brought such hope and comfort.

  
That a little of Earth could be found on Thedas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, I know that Cynthia's mourning seems a little short but I kinda feel like the last few chapters have just been downers. Important to the story, but still, made it less fun to write. Now though, I have them out of the way we can back to some fun in Thedas!
> 
> Also please let me know what you think of my characterisations, I love Dorian and I hope I did him justice. Any advice is welcome. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for the all the comments and kudos so far, whenever I get the notifications I just smile. 
> 
> Anyway, see you guys in the next chapters!


	15. Animal magnetism

It was cold that night. 

Being up in the mountains without central heating, as well as being in a relatively unused part of the fortress, meant that Cynthia often found herself shivering beneath the blankets in her drafty archive of a bedroom. The cold itself wasn’t too bad, it was a little uncomfortable but she could deal with it, however the frigid air did more then just chill her skin. Her lungs clenched, rebelling against the cold air and bitterly refused to allow her to catch her breath. 

She gasped. Urgently attempting to fill her lungs with much needed air. Her lungs rattled, growling, wheezing. It felt as if something had a grip on her lungs and kept squeezing. 

Desperately she fumbled around the desk beside her bed for the inhaler all the while trying to catch her breath. Then her fingers finally wrapped around the cool plastic, quickly she brought it to her lips and breathed in the medication. Slowly her breathing evened out, the rasping subsided and she was able to take in full deep breaths. 

It seemed almost ridiculous, on Earth asthma was more often than not a nuisance rather than a life threatening condition. But like most things in Thedas it was far more deadly, she couldn’t nip down to a pharmacy to replace her prescription nor could she be hooked up to a machine to regulate her breathing. Though this world had magic and healing of its own, she had yet to come across anything that had the potential to stave off an asthma attack. 

Cynthia sat up in her bed, her hand gently resting on her chest as she took deep calming breaths, the lonely darkness of her bedroom surrounding her. In her other hand she clutched her inhaler, the small cartridge of medicine felt too light, she knew that very soon it would be of no use.

* * *

The next morning, true to her word, Cynthia met Ella for breakfast in the Great Hall. Though the Otherworlder continued to have her solemn silences small breaks in her mood allowed for smiles and cheer to which Ella seemed immensely relieved. The meal was on the whole a bright start to the day for both mages as they finished their breakfasts with laughter on their lips. It wasn’t until Ella seemed sure that Cynthia was in a pleasant enough mood that she asked about the flower. Gently the LARPer touched the charmed bloom nestled in her hair, she hadn’t wanted to part with it that morning. Though it was such a simple, withered little flower it felt almost like an anchor to Cynthia, her little piece of Earth despite it being a Thedosian flower. 

The lack of verbal response allowed Ella to beam at her friend as she teased a fictitious secret admirer. The Kirkwaller sighed at the romance of it all to which Cynthia rolled her eyes. The little mage having had time to consider had a good idea who had placed the daisy on her pillow, he must have wanted to help, she had no illusions that there was anything romantic in the gesture. No matter what she- She paused as she shook her head of the thought.

Soon enough Ella had need to attend her duties for the day and quickly made her way to the mage’s tower. This, however, left Cynthia at a bit of a loss. Since her return she had been excused of her duties and lessons, she had thought to return to her instructors when she felt she was ready but when that morning she made inquiries they informed her that she would not. Sirav’s orders apparently. Yet the young mage had yet to receive any news of what she was to do next. In need of answers she spent some time that morning looking for the Inquisitor and was promptly informed that she would be departing for Crestwood soon. Immediately Cynthia headed for the stables in hopes of catching the party before they left for their excursion. 

 

It wasn’t often that Cynthia came down to this side of the fortress. She had only had need of a horse once since coming to Skyhold. Her pleasant mood dimmed as her mind cast back to the ruin and the thoughts that haunted her over the last fortnight began to circle. Before she knew it she was ankle deep in straw. It seemed that Sirav and her excursion party had yet to arrive, stable hands were a flurry of movement as they busied themselves preparing the horses for the Inquisitor. They seemed to pay her little attention while she remained out of their way. 

Her brow creased at the sound of something she couldn’t identify. It was definitely like no horses whinny she had ever heard. Curiosity got the better of her as she made her way through the stables to the source of the sound. As she approached she found herself thinking that the noise was far more akin to a hiss then a nicker. 

Just as the thought crossed her mind she found the source of the sound. Inside one of the stables was a creature that she had never seen before. Cynthia had never had reason to think that the Inquisitions mounts were anything other than horses but this… this creature looked more draconic than equine. It was tall,lithe and perhaps from a distance could be mistaken for a horse, save for the large protruding horns from its head and the scales encasing its body. The colouring was beautiful, blues, greys and yellows. She had never seen such a thing. Obviously. 

So entranced had she become with this creature that she found her hand slowly stretching out to pet the beast. In hindsight this was probably not one of her wisest choices.

Her focus on the mount was so complete that she didn’t hear the warning cry of a young nearby stable boy. Instead her eyes met with the beasts, for a moment it looked as if it were preparing to snap at her outstretched fingers, then she felt a brief pulse of energy run through her hand. Cynthia thought there was a flicker of something flash in the creature’s eyes but was immediately distracted by the large reptilian head nuzzling against her hand affectionately. Gently her hand stroked the creature’s head, it was rough and cool to the touch. When she looked up the first thing she saw was the stunned expression of the stable boy before an unexpected voice behind her caused her to jump. 

“You really have a way with beasts.” It was Florian, one of the Inquisition soldiers Sirav had rescued from the Fallow Mire. 

“Geez!” She exclaimed before she recognised who he was. “Oh, hey, I didn’t see you there.” Cynthia formed an awkward smile as the draconic snout nudged her shoulder until she petted it again. 

“It’s alright, you were distracted, though I am surprised it has allowed you so close.” He mused.

“Why? This guy is like a giant scaly puppy.” She asked as she scratched a spot behind one of the horns that earned her a growling almost pur. 

“Well,” He paused as if wondering if this was the same ferocious beast he had seen brought to them but days ago “this is a dracolisk. Fresh from the wild for the Inquisitor, they haven’t broken him in for riding yet.”

“He snapped off two of Arden’s fingers this morning!” The previously stunned stable boy piped up before he gestured to a young elven lad at the other side of the stables, one hand was wrapped and had clearly been seen to be the healers recently. 

“I- I had no idea.” The LARPer mumbled while the dracolisk continued to nuzzle at her and continue to appear like a big bundle of fluff.

“You certainly are an interesting woman.” The Orleasian smiled. The little mage then began to feel incredibly awkward under his lingering gaze so quickly made her excuses and left. 

Cynthia was so flustered by the strange encounter that she almost walked straight past Sirav and her companions by the gate. A voice called out to her, pulling her from her daze. Sirav, Sera, Blackwall and Solas were all preparing to leave Skyhold. The young mage was more than a little surprised to see that they had their mounts with them and were almost ready to go. Had she been so distracted by Florian and the dracolisk that she had not seen them come in?

Varric appeared to have been the one that called out to her, probably seeing the group off as he was not dressed in his leathers nor was Bianca strapped to his back. 

“Ah, Cynthia I was hoping to talk to you before we left.” Sirav beamed as she finished buckling one of her saddle bags. 

“Yeah, my instructors said that you told them not to teach me anymore?” The 

Earthling asked as she watched the Inquisitor lithely hop onto her horse. 

“Indeed, we decided it would be better to keep your training more specialised. Officially you will be Vivienne’s new apprentice, unofficially you will be dividing your training between Dorian, Vivienne and Solas when they are available to do so.” The dwarfish rogue informed her as Cynthia stood more than a little dumbfounded. “Right, now that’s done we are ready to go.” The Inquisitor motioned to the rest of their party to move out. 

“Have fun with Madame de Frosty-knickers!” Sera called out with a giggle-snort while Cynthia remained unmoving in her surprise. 

“Well Dimples, good luck.” Varric chuckled as he began to head back towards the tavern. Cynthia remained staring out the gates until the expedition party were long out of sight. Then after a few moments more she seemed to return to her senses. 

“Bugger.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am in fact alive. Sorry these chapters are coming along slowly but I write when i can and post when I am done. So I hope you guys like this chapter. 
> 
> Next we get to see how Cynthia handles being Vivienne's apprentice,so fun :)
> 
> Also, thanks you to all the comments and kudos. They remind me that you are still interested in the story and make me want to finish these chapters for you.


End file.
